False Pioneers
by bladecatcher86
Summary: A prince and his three best friends go on a road trip with his arranged engagement waiting at the end. When their car breaks down, these city boys are left searching the wilderness for enough loot to pay for the repairs. This goes about as well as you might expect. [Noctis POV. Very loosely based on "Episode Duscae." MOVED FROM VERSUS XIII. Rated T for profanity and some violence.]
1. Running Down A Dream

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own _Final Fantasy XV_ , its characters, or any other intellectual property belonging to Square Enix. Nor do I own any other pieces of pop culture that I reference here.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** The following has been rated **T** for profanity and some violence.

This is the first time I've written a story about a game that hasn't come out yet – and, by extension, characters I barely know anything about. Hopefully it turns out OK.

* * *

 _Nobody knows what the future holds,_

 _And it's bad enough just getting old._

 _Live my life in self-defense._

 _You know I love the past 'cause I hate suspense._

\- Vampire Weekend, "Diane Young"

* * *

 **1** _running down a dream that never would come to me_

* * *

There was me, that is Noctis, and my three friends, that is Prompto, Gladiolus, and Ignis, and we sat in a diner in the middle of nowhere trying to make up our minds what to order off their menu. The diner sold pancakes, pancakes plus hash browns or sausage links or turkey bacon, which is what I felt like ordering. This would sharpen us up and make us ready for a bit of driving to Altissia, where my arranged engagement would become official.

The diner itself was part of one of those small truck stops that had been built several decades ago and had undergone little to no renovations since, presumably to preserve its "vintage charm," with a fueling station and a small service garage. The metal signs outside were somewhat rusted and a couple of letters flickered on and off, their fluorescent light bulbs clearly in their dying throes. The buildings were rather plain, just boxy brick structures coated with white paint that chipped a bit near the windows, but I guess it doesn't take much to catch eyes when your only neighbors are tall trees and rolling hills.

We were definitely too hungry to question how such an enterprise could possibly have remained in business in such a remote area though. _Best pancakes for a thousand miles!_ one sign outside had boasted, and we didn't question it considering this was the only building we'd seen in what felt like several hundred. It seemed a bit too late in the day to have breakfast, but none of us were really in the mood for lunch either. For my part, I was perhaps too accustomed to my father's rigid routine of "no breakfast after 11 a.m.," a practice he'd picked up from visiting a well-known local restaurant chain as a boy and one I'd never questioned myself "lest the cook be sent away."

The inside of the diner looked like a hangout from an old movie, the kind where teenagers would go after school to trade gossip, eat burgers, and drink chocolate milkshakes with a jukebox blaring in the background. The floor was all black-and-white checkerboard tiles, freshly mopped by our server shortly before our arrival for the sake of keeping busy, and the seats were all faded red leather. There was even the obligatory jukebox near the front door, albeit with an OUT OF ORDER sign taped to the glass that looked like it had been there long enough to declare the jukebox "for decoration purposes only."

The four of us were seated about halfway across the room from the door. Prompto had won the initial scramble for the window seat but, true to his name, was quick to switch once he caught a glimpse of our server. She looked maybe a few years older than us, at most. She wore hip-hugging jeans and a pink shirt over her petite frame, and she would sometimes pause to brush her auburn hair away from her brown eyes, chomping on a wad of bubblegum all the while and generally not responding to Prompto's flirting. So he pulled out the big guns and unknowingly, as always, aimed them straight at his foot.

"You know," he said, gesturing toward me, "my buddy over there is an honest-to-God _prince._ "

And may the gods forever bless you for your honesty, O my brother. What a shame that I typically prefer to keep this information secret from people who don't already know who I am or what I look like.

"Uh-huh," the server said, cracking her bubblegum. "And I'm the empress of Niflheim. I'm just slumming it in this diner to endear myself to the common folk."

Sharp tongue on this one. Ignis chuckled softly and began looking at her with increased admiration. He always did like women with a rapier wit.

"I'm serious!" said Prompto, not ready to abandon his cool-by-association "stick with me and you'll go places" narrative. "That guy right over there is Noctis Lucis Caelum, son of Regis, heir to the throne of—"

"Prompto," Ignis interrupted, "you're not seriously using someone else's heritage to impress a girl, are you?"

Of course he was. I knew this for a fact because I had seen him do it two weeks prior.

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"You seriously expect me to believe you're friends with the prince?" a pretty ponytailed blonde had asked Prompto in the midst of a crowded bar somewhere in downtown Insomnia, shouting to be heard over the thudding dance beat.

"Oh yeah!" Prompto had said. "He and I go _way_ back." He turned to wave and call over to me with an especially boisterous "YO NOCT!"

I was seated on a bar stool nearby, sipping a cocktail of whiskey and amaretto and generally avoiding drawing too much attention to myself. Once I heard Prompto calling out to me, I realized that I had taken my anonymity for granted that night. And I knew that soon I would be bombarded by hordes of drunk people desperately trying to insert themselves into my social circle – the kind of people who don't understand that I don't go to bars to be everybody's friend, but rather to have a good time with the friends I've already got. I must be mindful of my family's reputation, after all; it wouldn't do to have stories and images from one night of liquor-fueled debauchery coming back to bite me in the ass when the time comes for me to ascend the throne, tempting as it is sometimes to indulge in it. That's why it pays to know how to be sneaky about such things.

And on top of all that, I'm going to be spoken for soon. I hope Luna's the kind of woman who has no ethical qualms about getting married on the first date.

"What?" I called back, turning to face Prompto.

"Say hello to my lady friend!" he said, grinning like an idiot and slipping his arm around the blonde's waist.

"Stay away from that guy!" I joked, and I began making the throat-slashing gesture. "He's a loser!"

"You're the worst wingman of _all time_ ," Prompto shouted.

"Guilty as charged," I said, raising my arms as if surrendering to the police, and as I turned back to my drink I noticed the blonde's eyes widening with the realization that the goofy blond-haired guy with the studded sleeveless jacket really did have friends in high places.

About a minute later she came over wanting to meet me.

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

And now there we were, sitting in that truck stop diner in the middle of nowhere, watching Prompto show everyone that he hadn't learned his lesson from that night. "Come on, Ignis," he said, "you know chicks dig an honest man."

"So if he's really the prince of Lucis," said the server, pointing at me with her pen, "then what is he doing in a run-down dump like this?"

I checked my watch – 10:32 a.m., give or take a few minutes. Then I set my menu on the table, ran a hand through my stylish black hair, and looked up at the server with a polite smile. "Just ordering some pancakes, miss," I said.

* * *

The Regalia zoomed along at a comfortable highway speed, following every curve of the long asphalt strip that cut through the Duscae countryside for what seemed like forever, stretching off toward the horizon as the sun beat down upon our heads. The car was a sleek black convertible that had once belonged to my father and which he'd passed along to me once my friends and I were all old enough to drive. It's a nice reminder that sometimes regal birth really does have its perks; most teenagers' hand-me-downs are usually old T-shirts and sweaters.

The roof was down, so the rushing wind made the music harder to hear, but I picked up electric guitars jangling through the speakers. And the lyrics were about driving on the open road, singing along to the songs on the radio, and feeling like something good was coming at the road's end, even if you didn't know for sure what it was. It's funny how sometimes the radio seems to know just the right song for your mood.

As for me, I was lounging in the backseat, resting my head in my hand while watching the trees and fields and occasional road sign whiz by. While the Regalia may be mine, I'm certainly not above sharing the driving duties. On a day like this one I'm all too happy to let Ignis take the wheel, relax in the back, and take in the scenery – or, more likely, doze off for a while. Irony: it's what happens when you live in a city called Insomnia, and you suffer from narcolepsy.

Still, the breakfast had been a nice pick-me-up and I found myself not feeling drowsy at all – that, or perhaps it simply wasn't possible to fall asleep with the wind blowing in my face at all times. Or with Prompto yapping away in the seat next to me, for that matter. I didn't really care what he was talking about; I was mostly trying to read the patch near the neck on his studded black vest.

 _It's a beautiful day_ , the patch said. _Now watch some bastard fuck it up._

"Hey, the road looks like it straightens out for a pretty long time now," he observed, scratching the back of his head. "I say we shift this baby into overdrive and see what it can _really_ do."

"That won't be necessary," said Ignis.

"Don't be such a buzzkill, man," said Prompto. "We're barely even doing the speed limit."

"The speed limit here is 55, and we are doing 66."

"I'm just saying," Prompto went on, "it's not like there are any hiding places around here where a cop can jump out of nowhere and bust us for speeding."

"I don't care," Ignis said. "I'm not your damned chauffeur."

"No," I chimed in, "but you _are_ mine."

This got Prompto to burst out laughing. "Oh snap!" he hollered. "Gentlemen, the prince is finally pulling rank!"

"Yes, I am," I said, smirking at Prompto. "Carry on, Ignis."

Now it was the others' turn to laugh as Prompto slumped back in his seat. "Man," he said, "you guys are no fun at all. I bet there isn't a single cop within two hundred miles of here."

"I'll take that bet," said Gladiolus, turning from the passenger seat to face Prompto. "Two hundred gil says there's at least _one_ police officer within two hundred miles."

"You're on," said Prompto, and they shook hands to seal the deal.

"Oh, my lord," Ignis said. "Raise the wager, Gladio."

"I would, but I'd feel bad about bankrupting him."

"Get a load of these bozos," Prompto said, giving me a little nudge, "thinking they've got this thing in the bag." He chuckled and shook his head. "Watch this." And with that, he unbuckled his seatbelt and stood up, gripping the driver's seat to steady himself and cupping his mouth with his other hand.

Things to know about Prompto: he doesn't always care about consequences. He's actually a wanted man in another country for an incredibly stupid thing he did without really thinking about what he was doing (he doesn't talk about it much). Look, lord knows I love the guy – he and I have been friends since we were kids – but sometimes it really does take every ounce of willpower within me to refrain from smacking him upside the head, hoping to knock a little sense into him. But I know better; he's the kind of guy who would probably do something crazy anyway, just to spite anyone who says he shouldn't.

"Calling all cars!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "We've got a black Regalia convertible doing 66 in a 55 zone!"

"Not anymore," Ignis mumbled as he applied the brake.

"I have a gun in a duffel bag in the trunk!" Prompto continued, stating a fact despite being fully aware that all firearms are completely outlawed in Lucis. "And I am _clearly_ not wearing my seatbelt!"

At this point the car drove over a bumpy patch of road. Prompto had to grab the driver's seat with both hands and hang on for dear life to keep from toppling over the door.

"Sit down before you fall out of the damn car!" Gladiolus ordered.

"WITNESS ME!" Prompto shouted to the invisible officers. "ARREST ME!"

And sure enough, not a single police officer was there to do it – not that this meant much, as there were still about 196 miles left in the range of the little friendly wager. Of course, as the Crown Prince of Lucis, technically I would have more authority than any cop could ever dream of having.

"Okay, that's enough," I finally said. "I'm pulling rank again. Sit your ass back down, Prompto. That's an official royal order."

"Noctis," said Ignis, "promise me that your first order of business upon your coronation will be to extradite this idiot."

"Don't listen to him, Noct," Prompto said, finally sitting back in his seat and buckling up again. "If there's one thing I've learned from movies, it's that the royal advisor always turns out to be a corrupt scheming bastard."

"Prompto," Ignis fired back, "I realize this advice is coming about twenty years too late to do you any good, but here it is anyway: don't be stupid."

"Shut up, Ignis."

Gladiolus opened the glove compartment and dug around for a few seconds before finding what he wanted. "Here," he said to Prompto, pulling out a book. "Instead of trying to get us all locked up for the rest of our lives, you can read this."

"What is it?"

"It's a Duscae travel guide," Gladiolus said. "See if you can find something for us to do."

"Whatever," Prompto mumbled. He took the travel guide and started flicking through it.

And so, with the situation defused for the time being, we continued on down the long and winding road in search of something to explore, something to experience for ourselves. We were blazing a trail that had already been thoroughly blazed, mapped, and paved over a long time ago, but if we couldn't forge our own path we could at least follow our predecessors' footsteps however we saw fit.

* * *

"Hey guys," Prompto called out, still reading the travel guide about half an hour later, "all in favor of checking out the biggest ball of twine in Duscae, say _aye!_ "

The only audible responses were the revving of the Regalia's engine and a voice on the radio melodramatically reading promotional material for the long-awaited remake of _Last Vision 7_ , which I expect to beat the anthology show's upcoming fifteenth season to our televisions despite the latter project being started first.

"All in favor of tossing Prompto out of the car right now, say _aye,_ " Ignis said as he steered the car along a curve overlooking a steep cliff.

* * *

"Now _this_ is why I like getting out of the city," said Gladiolus.

We had pulled over to the side of the road to have some snacks and drink some water, and we picked a spot in the middle of what looked like one of those landscape paintings people like to hang in their dining rooms. We were staring out towards a shimmering lake that sat calmly in the heart of a plain peppered with tall skinny trees and a water tower or two with a mountainous backdrop overlooking it. And if we turned our heads just a bit to the right we could see the massive stone arches that were Duscae's signature natural landmarks.

Well… _possibly_ natural landmarks. It depends on who you ask, really. It's become one of our civilization's greatest, most enduring mysteries. Nobody is entirely sure where the Duscae arches came from, or who built them, or why. They've been around long enough for us to know that the ancients believed they were constructed by the earth god Titan to provide safe passage for travelers above the many dangerous beasts that called the valley home. Other tribes would have told you they were the remnants of giant worms or serpents that had been turned to stone as divine punishment for some grave misdeed. One early scientific explanation was that they were man-made bridges, but that idea went out the window when nobody could figure out how they were built. They didn't appear to have been made from scratch with stone blocks and mortar, and even if they'd been carved out from a much larger natural rocky formation, nobody could explain how it was done, how long it took, or where the excess rock had gone once it was removed. They were too neatly sculpted to have resulted from any demolition, and there was no way to determine if some great flood had eroded whatever stone may have once filled that gap between the arches and the ground. Ask Ignis, our resident science buff, and he will politely inform you that your question is wasted on him as he is _not_ in fact a geologist – which of course is his way of saying "I have absolutely _no idea_."

"It is quite a view, isn't it?" said Ignis.

"Definitely," Gladiolus answered. "Hang on a second. I want to get a picture of this." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his mobile phone.

"Dude, you brought your phone?" Prompto asked upon sighting the device.

"Of course I did. Why wouldn't I?"

"I thought the whole point of leaving a couple days early was so we could just drop off the grid for a while," Prompto said. "Nobody can find us. We can do whatever we want, and nobody ever has to know."

"Not when you've got the second-most important man in Lucis in your traveling party," said Gladiolus. "Besides, I never leave home without my phone. You know that."

Ever since we were kids, Prompto's had this fantasy of getting in a car and going… well, anywhere. He never really had a specific destination in mind; it was more about driving for the sake of driving, going somewhere on a whim, or getting lost and finding your way back home, because having your own car meant having that kind of freedom. It also meant having to constantly fill your tank with gas and your tires with air, and emptying your wallet every time you needed the damn thing inspected or repaired, but he's never had his own car so he's never really experienced that downside of it. Driving also meant that you took your life and the lives of those around you and placed them on the betting table, and if you weren't careful enough you could cause some serious damage or get yourself or others injured or even killed. It was this truth, along with a rather serious accident he'd survived back in his early twenties, that had led my father to dub all cars "coffins on wheels."

None of this had ever dissuaded Prompto, however, and once I took ownership of the Regalia his enthusiasm for such a trip only continued to grow. His technophobic approach was something he picked up from reading about those whose explorations brought about the expansion of human civilization; he concluded that if they could figure out how to get around without any sort of guidance, then so could he, and that would enhance the excitement of it all. I could never understand the appeal of doing without devices invented to make life easier, but then again he was never one to back down from a challenge – or so he says.

"Did anyone else bring their phones?" he asked.

"I did," said Ignis, "but my battery is dead and I left my charger cord at home like an idiot."

"I have mine in my pocket," I confessed.

Prompto threw up his hands in apparent frustration. "You guys, you're totally killing the adventure!" he said. "We're supposed to be exploring the vast and wild frontier using only our wits, like the pioneers did centuries before us."

"I'm pretty sure the pioneers didn't have cars," I said. "Or maps. Or signs. Or even roads."

"They didn't need roads."

"Well, we do," said Gladiolus, snapping an attempt at a panoramic picture of the valley with his phone.

"Prompto," Ignis teased, "it's okay to admit that you lost your phone again."

"Shut up," said Prompto. "I didn't lose it. I put it in a safe before we left, with all my other valuable stuff."

"Why would anyone put their phone in a safe?" I asked.

"Because I don't trust other people with my stuff!" he answered, folding his arms and leaning against the Regalia. "You remember what happened three years ago? I left my water snake with my next-door neighbor when I went on vacation and I haven't seen it since!"

"Why didn't you get it back?" asked Gladiolus.

"My neighbor told me it died, so he just dumped the body in the water."

"Well, wherever it is," Gladiolus said, "I'm sure it's in a better place."

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

 _It was another calm and beautiful day out on the open sea. Not a cloud could be found for miles, leaving the sun free to shine brightly and warmly upon the surface water as it flowed peacefully along the current, the only disturbance being from the occasional dolphin or fish that leapt into the air._

 _But then, all of a sudden, there came a rumbling from far beneath the surface. Had any poor souls been there to witness it, they surely would have started trembling in fear as the rumble grew louder and louder and its source came closer and closer._

 _Finally, with a deafening roar, the great sea serpent Leviathan burst forth. A massive eruption of water accompanied her as for a moment she glimpsed the bright blue sky._

 _And then, as she plunged back down into the depths from whence she came, the waves Leviathan created rolled on for miles, gradually shrinking all the while. By the time they reached the nearest coast, the waves had been reduced to mere ripples, completely in lockstep with the routine rising and falling of the tides. Thus the local beachgoers remained blissfully clueless as to their true origins, surfing and splashing and swimming where the sea met the sand, concerning themselves only with avoiding the undertow._

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Hey Gladio, how have you still not taken that picture yet?" asked Prompto as he leaned against the car. "I could have _painted_ one for you by the time you were done."

"Shut up. I'm trying to keep my hands steady."

"All you had to do was ask. I'm just sayin'."

"Well," said Ignis, now directing his attention to the two of us who weren't busy with a camera phone, "while he's off capturing his masterpiece, which of you would like to take the wheel for the rest of the day? I could use a break from all that driving."

His face fell as Prompto's hand immediately shot into the air.

"Noctis," he asked, "are you really all right with giving your keys to Mr. Floor-It over there?"

"Hey, if you didn't want me driving," Prompto countered, "then why'd you ask both of us?"

"We'll flip a coin for it," I offered, pulling one out of my pocket, and I smirked as I caught Ignis's relief at not having to answer Prompto's question. "Heads, I drive. Tails, he takes over."

"What about me?" Gladiolus asked as he put his phone back in his pocket. "I don't get a say in this?"

"Sorry, bro," Prompto teased. "We figured you had more important things to do."

"Whatever."

"We'll let you toss the coin if you want."

Gladiolus rolled his eyes and sat back in the front passenger seat.

"All right, everyone shut up and let's get this over with," I said.

I placed the coin atop my thumbnail and flicked it into the air. It spun rapidly, end over end, until finally landing in my palm. Then I slapped it on the back of my other hand and uncovered it.

"Tails," I announced, and Prompto's cheers echoed throughout the valley.

"Well, so much for being able to rest easy," said Ignis as he climbed into the backseat.

"Don't worry," said Gladiolus. "He'll be driving nice and safe."

"Oh yeah?" Prompto retorted, making his way to the driver's seat. "Says who?"

"That guy," Gladiolus said, pointing down the road. "The one who's about to make me two hundred gil richer."

The rest of us turned our heads to follow his finger, and sure enough, we spotted a police car zooming down the highway towards us and then past us. The lights weren't flashing and the sirens remained silent, but it was unmistakably a police car.

"Man, this just isn't my day," Prompto said. He started digging into his pocket for his wallet. Say what you will about him, but while he's made his fair share of bad bets over the years, he's never been known to welch on one.

"That cop was going awfully fast," Ignis observed.

"A lot faster than you were going," I added, feeling confident in my assertion despite not having a radar gun handy.

Prompto sighed loudly as he handed Gladiolus the two hundred gil. "I hope he writes himself a ticket when he gets wherever he's going," he said. "Corrupt old bastard."

* * *

In spite of all his complaints, Ignis was actually the first of us to fall asleep as the evening hours approached. I spotted him leaning toward the car door with his head propped up on his hand and his glasses having slipped halfway down the bridge of his nose. I reached over and gently removed the glasses, figuring that this way they wouldn't be at risk of falling out of the car, and rested them on the empty middle seat between us. His wrist would probably be killing him whenever he woke up, but there's only so much a man can do.

My narcolepsy kicked in soon after that, and I welcomed the opportunity for a nap. It wasn't like I had any idea whether there was any place for us to spend the night that happened to be conveniently located in an otherwise uninhabited stretch of land. I slouched a bit in my seat – a habit my father has wanted me to break for years – and tried to stretch my legs as much as the limited space would allow. Then I simply closed my eyes, took a few deep breaths, stopped thinking about anything in particular, and within minutes I was out cold.

It's not really the sleeping that gets me though. It's the dreaming.

Quite simply, my dreams as of late never make much sense. They feel more like memories from another lifetime, transmitted across dimensions from some alternate version of Noctis Lucis Caelum directly into my brain. Instead of being royalty, my father and I are mafia kingpins running networks of gangs, waging urban warfare against rival gangs. I keep seeing visions of a mysterious goddess that, to my knowledge, isn't worshipped in any modern or even historical culture. There's also a young woman in a white dress with blond hair extending just beneath her shoulders, claiming that she sees the same visions. And she's not Luna, but she claims to be a relative. I have no idea what any of this means, yet I do recognize her – she's someone I met at a bar a few weeks ago and haven't seen or heard from since, even though I would much prefer the opposite to be true.

Maybe I'm just gradually losing my mind. Then again, the fact that I can even entertain the notion would suggest otherwise; they say those who are truly crazy are the ones who are completely and genuinely unaware of their own insanity.

I mention all of this because I was in the middle of having one of those dreams when Gladiolus started shaking me awake. Prompto and Ignis were arguing about something in the background, but I was still a bit out of it and couldn't quite make out what they were saying yet.

"Good, you're finally up," said Gladiolus. "There are _corpses_ that don't sleep as deeply as you do."

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Let's just say you shouldn't have let things come to a coin toss."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

I rubbed my eyes, turned my attention toward the sources of the voices shouting over each other, and caught a glimpse of the Regalia's open hood. We had pulled over to the side of the road. Smoke billowed from behind the hood and something smelled unusual. I could see Ignis standing with his arms folded, a scowl painted on his face as he observed whatever was wrong with the car. Prompto had his hands clasped behind his head, pacing back and forth across the width of our lane.

"This is unbelievable," Ignis said. "The _one time_ we actually let you drive, and this is what you do!"

"You're right, Ignis!" shouted Prompto. "I _totally_ did this on purpose! I _wanted_ to get us all stranded out in the middle of nowhere!"

"How did this even happen?"

"How the hell should I know? All I did was drive fast, dude!"

"Can someone please tell me what's going on here?" I interjected.

"Prompto wrecked your car," Gladiolus answered.

"No, I didn't!" he countered. "The car broke down. Wrecking the car is what happens when you crash into shit. Have _I_ crashed into shit? There isn't even anything around here to crash into!"

There actually were some trees and bushes scattered throughout the grassy fields that surrounded us, but they were far enough away from the road that his point could still stand.

"All right, everyone calm down," I said. "Let me take a look at it."

I stepped out of the Regalia, still a bit drowsy from my nap, and stretched my arms and legs. Then I shuffled over to the front of the car. The smoke was starting to ease up a bit, but it was blowing right into my face. I coughed and began to wave the smoke away as I glanced inside, squinting my eyes so I could at least sort of see.

"It's bad, man," Prompto warned. He stood with his hands on his waist, shaking his head as if still in disbelief. "Really bad."

"No kidding," I replied. "Holy shit." I turned my head and coughed some more. "It looks like there's something wrong with the motor."

"Wonderful," mumbled Ignis, folding his arms to presumably keep from grabbing his hair by the spiked-up part in front and tearing it all out of his scalp at once.

"Yeah, I don't think we'll be driving anywhere for a while," I said. "Hey Gladio, does your phone have any battery left?"

"One step ahead of you, Noct," Gladio said, his eyes fixed on his mobile phone and his index finger swiping the screen. "The good news is there's a garage down the road with a caravan right next door. It's called Coernix Station… or something like that." He mangled the pronunciation of _Coernix_ a bit; had Prompto been in a better mood he surely would have replied by asking if Gladiolus had called the place Cervix Station by mistake. "If we had kept going, we probably would have passed it by now."

"That seems a bit too fortunate for us at the moment," Ignis said. "Bring on the inevitable bad news."

"It's about ten miles away."

Ignis tilted his head back and laughed a bitter laugh. "Oh, this is getting better by the minute," he said. "I don't suppose next you'll tell me the Regalia is about to catch fire?"

"Here's what I _can_ tell you," Gladiolus continued. "The Coernix Station garage closed about an hour ago."

"Well, _now_ you're just piling it on."

"So what exactly are we supposed to do?" Prompto asked.

"That depends," I answered. "How badly do you guys want to sleep in a bed tonight?"

* * *

I sat in the Regalia's driver seat with my hands gripping the wheel at ten and two o'clock and a cool breeze blowing a few strands of hair across my face. Looking straight ahead, I could see the last patches of brightened sky along the horizon as the sun continued to set. All around above our heads the first stars of the night began twinkling into view. But most importantly, there was no sign of any rain clouds for miles around.

Not that this information made the others feel better, of course.

"Damn you, Noctis," Prompto groaned. "You can go years at a time without pulling rank on us, and the _one time_ you do…"

"Quit your whining and push the damn car," Ignis muttered.

* * *

By the time we reached Coernix Station, the night was a few hours old and we were all thoroughly exhausted, having taken occasional breaks and rotated in and out of the driver's seat. We left the Regalia outside the garage, and I took a look around as we all stopped to catch our breath. The place looked as though it had been built fairly recently, judging from the look of the well-lit filling station and the clean and flashy convenience store. Not far away, beyond a rusted white sign that read EVERGREEN OAKS, stood several trailers waiting for rental occupants (or so we hoped). In the center of the caravan lot there were a few arrangements of lawn chairs, small tables, and umbrellas. I spotted a young man and woman sitting at one such table, reaching across it to clasp each other's hands as they conversed about what I could only assume was something serious. I couldn't see anyone inside the convenience store, so I concluded I would have to politely interrupt their little chat and told my friends I'd be back shortly.

As I approached the pair, I got a better view of what they looked like. The young woman had a cute blond bob and wore a white top that left her shoulders bare and showed her navel through a slit toward the bottom, and her short pink skirt would have stood out in broad daylight, let alone in the dead of night. The man had a light brown crew cut with spikes at the front and long sideburns, and he wore a fancy-looking vest over a long-sleeved white shirt with tight black pants. They both appeared to be around university age, though their voices made them sound slightly older.

"I saw you looking at that poster in the store," she murmured.

"What, the hunting poster?" he asked with a suave accent that reminded me of Ignis. "I merely skimmed it. I haven't even the slightest clue what the reward was. No need to worry."

"I'm worried anyway," she said. "A lot of hunters have pursued Deadeye, and none of them have ever returned." She paused to brush a strand of hair away from her eye. "And I _know_ what you're about to say because you _always_ say it, but…"

Her voice trailed off, and I took advantage of the opportunity to cut in.

"Excuse me," I said, startling them both and causing them to release each other's hands. "Hi. Sorry to interrupt you, but would you happen to know how my friends and I could rent a trailer here? I don't see an office anywhere."

"We… um, we came in our own RV," the young woman mumbled, gesturing toward a shiny white RV nearby that was clearly sleeker, fancier, and more modern-looking than the boxy orange-and-brown caravan trailers.

"I think you check in with the shopkeeper at the convenience store and he gives you a key," the young man said.

"I didn't see anyone in there," I said.

"The store's open twenty-four hours a day," he answered, "so he should still be in there somewhere. There's a little bell on the counter in case you still can't find him."

"Thanks," I said. "Again, sorry to bother you. Have a good night." I turned to head for the convenience store.

"You too," he said, and turned his focus back to his lovely companion. "Now, where were we?"

"Please," she said, her already hushed voice growing fainter as I walked away, "don't go after Deadeye. I almost lost you once, and that was bad enough. If you die out there, I… I…"

"It's all right," he assured her. "I wasn't planning on hunting him anyway, but if it really means this much to you, I _promise_ you I'll leave him alone."

The convenience store was surprisingly big on the inside, much bigger than you would typically see at most gas stations. It was arranged something like an uppercase L, with the counter at the point where the two lines intersected. The shelves were stocked with the usual snacks – potato chips, pretzels, nachos, and assorted chocolates and candies – along with first aid items and a magazine rack. On the farthest wall to the right, next to a refrigerator stocked with colas and iced teas and sport drinks, I spotted that poster calling for the head of Deadeye the Behemoth (which provoked an "oh shit" reaction from me, as that species is notoriously aggressive) and offering a hefty reward in return: 25,000 gil.

One issue among the throngs of travel guides and magazines for sports and car enthusiasts caught my eye. The cover story was about the best entrepreneurs under age 25. The cover photo was the owner of 7th Heaven, a stunning brunette whose topnotch cooking and collection of signature cocktails had transformed what was once a low-key bar and grill into one of Insomnia's most popular restaurants. I go there a lot – I've even had dinner there for my last few birthdays. She probably would have chosen a more professional-looking photo for the cover, had that been her call to make. I've met her a few times and while she looks like a bombshell (she's arguably best known for her hourglass figure), she's really more of a shy girl-next-door type that you could bring home to Mom and Dad with no worries. But because she was young, beautiful, and honestly rather well-endowed, they showed her in a tight white top holding a cocktail glass in each hand, flashing a friendly smile and pushing her breasts out toward the camera. Then again, I suppose it wouldn't have mattered whether she posed in a frumpy pantsuit without makeup or naked on a horse and waving a ten gallon hat in the air (she "never really grew out of her cowgirl phase," as her boyfriend put it) – a lot of men probably would have dehydrated themselves from drooling over her anyway. If I had a gil for every time I've heard someone call her boyfriend "the luckiest man in Lucis"… well, I'd be twice as well off as I already am.

I considered picking up a copy for Prompto's reading pleasure, but soon decided against it as we'd all agreed to save our cash for the essentials only.

"Good evening, sir!" said the shopkeeper, a middle-aged man with a scruffy beard and wearing a plain red T-shirt and blue jeans, exiting the bathroom with a mop in his hand. "Sorry I wasn't here. I was just cleaning the bathroom."

"Got to keep yourself busy somehow when you work the night shift, huh?" I said.

The shopkeeper chuckled at that. "Exactly," he said, "especially when your place of business is conveniently located in God-knows-where. Besides, I can only read the same magazine articles so many times."

He held up a copy of the magazine with the owner of 7th Heaven on the cover, though it was opened to the middle of the article about her. I recognized her from what were obviously personal photos: chaperoning a mechanical bull back before she took ownership of the place, wearing a bright orange cowgirl outfit and hugging her spiky-haired boyfriend at one of her annual costume parties, and playfully puckering up while a horse licked her cheek. None of them attempted to match the alluring nature of the cover photo.

"So how may I be of service to you?" he asked.

"Just trying to rent a trailer," I answered. "Please tell me you have vacancies."

"You're in luck," he said. "I got one left. It'll cost you two hundred gil a night. How long are you looking to stick around?"

"Hopefully just for one night. My car broke down and my friends and I had to push it all the way here."

"Shucks, son, you could've just waited 'til morning and called us so we could tow it here for you."

"I know," I said. I pulled out my wallet and paid off the bill in cash.

"Remind me not to pick a fight with you fellas!" he said with a laugh, and whistled to express his amazement at our little feat of strength. Then he grabbed a key from a bulletin board behind him. "Trailer number six is all yours. I'll walk you over. I could use a little fresh air."

I thanked the shopkeeper and we walked out of the store, and I motioned to my friends to follow us to the trailer. On our way over I saw that pair from earlier and quickly learned that their conversation had taken a turn for the better since I'd left. The blonde was sitting quite comfortably on the young man's lap with one hand on his chest and the other at the nape of his neck, letting him caress her thigh and run his fingers through her hair. They were too busy sharing a passionate kiss to notice us passing by.

It made me kind of jealous of the guy, frankly. Must be nice to have a girl kiss you like that and actually mean it.

"Jeez," said Prompto, "you'd think somebody would make them get a room."

"They came here with four other people," the shopkeeper said. "At this hour, in this neck of the woods, I'd wager they have more privacy outside."

Once we reached trailer number six, the shopkeeper gave us a quick tour of the place and bid us all good night. As soon as he shut the door we made our way to the bunk beds and got ourselves all tucked in for some much-needed rest. Gladiolus was first to fall asleep this time; he was out almost immediately.

"Shit," whispered Prompto. "I forgot to ask that guy if this place gets cable."

"You can watch all the television you want while they're fixing the car," Ignis muttered.

I stayed awake the longest of our little group, and I wasn't entirely sure why. Could have been my aching muscles keeping me from getting comfortable. Maybe it was from worrying about what my father might say if he found out how much money I was about to spend thanks to Prompto's fast and furious driving. Perhaps I was just nervous about running into that nasty Behemoth, and wondering if the couple outside was really safe. Or maybe it was because part of me wanted to interrupt them once more, this time to ask them how they'd been fortunate enough to find each other in such a big and wild world.

It didn't really matter in the end. With all of those thoughts swirling around, my brain soon became as fatigued as the rest of my body and I finally fell asleep. And I dreamed once more of the long-lost mystery woman in the white dress, walking down a staircase and out of my life, just like she always does.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE**

One chapter down! And there are still as many as five to come, though I've got a feeling the second half of the story will be more of a challenge than the first.

The title of this chapter comes from "Runnin' Down A Dream" by Tom Petty, the greatest driving song of all time. The first paragraph spoofs the beginning of _A Clockwork Orange_ ; I like to picture "Music for the Funeral of Queen Mary" playing in the background during that whole scene. The "biggest ball of twine" bit was supposed to be part of a running gag where Prompto suggests various absurd tourist attractions to visit, but I settled for a Weird Al reference instead (his song "The Biggest Ball of Twine in Minnesota" is about a real tourist attraction). Also, that bit about "no breakfast after 11 a.m." is something I actually do. I'm not sure why. Even McDonald's doesn't do that anymore.

 **Spot the Cameos:** I'm apparently incapable of writing a _Final Fantasy_ story that doesn't feature cameos by characters from other _Final Fantasy_ games. It's made me think of an interesting "what if" though: what if all _FF_ characters exist somewhere in each _FF_ world, and the reason each game is about a different cast is because each alternate world needs someone else to save it? So now we have Cloud and Tifa from _VII_ popping up in a magazine article. Meanwhile Ashe and Balthier from _XII_ , the stars of my previous fic "Parades & Fireworks," appear as a couple of random tourists, and their interaction here sums up their interaction in that story in several thousand fewer words.

Okay, there's more to that story than that, but I never shy away from self-deprecation! I should probably see a therapist about that.


	2. I'll Share This Lonely View

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own _Final Fantasy XV_ , its characters, or any other intellectual property belonging to Square Enix. Nor do I own any other pieces of pop culture that I reference here.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** "A vast calm wilderness… the call to adventure comes."

* * *

 **2** _with the birds i'll share this lonely view_

* * *

A couple nights ago, when we first set out on this trip, we'd managed to stumble across a reasonably priced motel a few hours outside of Insomnia. There was nothing all that flashy about the place – it belonged to a chain of motels that basically all looked alike – but it came with a heated pool and cable television, and the beds were surprisingly comfortable. It was another restless night for me though. I tossed and turned trying to shut my brain off for a few hours before finally saying "to hell with it" and stepping outside at around 2:30 in the morning to get some air and some bottled water from a vending machine.

As I bent to retrieve my drink, I heard the unmistakable sounds of hushed laughter and sloshing pool water. The pool was supposed to have closed at ten, but someone at that motel clearly hadn't received a copy of that memo. I stood in the hall beside the vending machine, sipping from my plastic bottle, as I watched a happy young couple play in the water. I recognized the feathery-haired blond guy as a famous athlete, a regular in the daily sports sections who earned more than enough in salary and endorsements to afford better lodging, and I could spot a shirt reading AUROCHS draped over the fence beside his girlfriend's denim shorts. The girl was an up-and-coming pop idol who had recently abandoned her trademark conservative flowery dress for a full wardrobe of costumes that varied in levels of skimpiness. And I stood there watching them treading water in their underwear, tossing a big blue-and-white ball around, and gently splashing each other from time to time.

The girl was visibly frightened when I emerged from the shadows to dispose of my emptied bottle, clasping her hands over her mouth. I responded by simply zipping my lips and miming locking them up and throwing away the key. The athlete grinned and gave me an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Then he wrapped his arms around his girlfriend's waist, lifted her into the air, and fell backwards under the water, taking her down with him.

I chuckled to myself and walked back to our room without a word. After all, who was I to deny them their fun? Who was I to deny them their mutual affection? I envied them far too much to even consider it, so I let them be, just as I would later leave the pair I'd met at the caravan to their intense lip-locking and leg-stroking. Just because I can't have that doesn't mean I feel some insatiable urge to ruin it for everyone else.

When most people look at me, all they see is the prince of Lucis, the guy who has everything, from the silver spoon in my mouth at birth to the undoubtedly lavish casket that awaits me some time in the next few decades. They see a potential ticket to high society and a life of luxury, their best bet to live their dreams. But they can choose their dreams and they can choose their careers; their lives belong to them, while mine belongs to Lucis. Oh, and they can also choose their romantic partners. Love isn't usually something that factors into the equation when it comes to those of royal birth, unless you somehow get lucky even by the already fortunate standards of the ruling class. We marry to forge alliances and preserve bloodlines, and that's about it. Historically there have been plenty in my position with relatively lax adherence to monogamous tradition, but nowadays it's generally frowned upon to act that way. Or at least that's what Ignis tells me – whenever I'm caught in public fooling around with a pretty girl, he's always quick with a reminder to consider my reputation, usually while brandishing some gossip rag he picked up at the supermarket. It's like he thinks I can't tell the difference between a genuinely decent woman and one who just wants to brag to all her friends about hooking up with His Majesty. Trust me: I have far too much experience with the latter to be that socially obtuse. When you've been a celebrity since infancy, you get used to being smothered with artificial love. Sometimes you even trick yourself into liking it.

And then there was that blonde in the white dress, the one that still haunts my dreams all these weeks after her one-night-only cameo appearance in my life had run its course. We met in a club in Insomnia, and though she recognized my face and knew my name she took it in stride; where most people I meet are star-struck and come off as nervous or desperate for attention, she was cool and collected and simply asked, "So what's it like?" She was from a wealthy family in Tenebrae that wasn't very fond of me or my father, but she came to Lucis for vacation anyway because screw what Mom or Dad or anyone else might think. But as our conversation progressed I learned that she, like me, would sometimes struggle with the burden of continuing her parents' legacy, and she understandably seemed apprehensive about them finding out we'd met. Between all that, we shared a lot of genuine laughs and also a few drinks. But mostly we just talked – we even went to the upper deck so we could have more privacy and hear each other better. You ever strike up a conversation with somebody and then just get so deep in it that you lose all sense of time, the kind where before you know it you've been chatting for hours but you still don't want to leave? This was like that – and then suddenly it was 2:00 in the morning and the bartender was shouting for last call. We parted ways before either of us realized that we'd forgotten to exchange contact information, and that was that.

I've been trying to find her ever since, but the trail has run ice cold. Not like I have much to go on, though. I searched for her on social media but she doesn't have any profiles anywhere, and I have looked through _tons_ of results from Tenebrae alone. It's as if she walked out of that club that night and immediately dropped off the face of the earth. Sometimes I wonder if she ever existed at all, if it was simply as realistic a dream as I could have without it crossing over into lucidity. But either way, it doesn't really matter. All I have now is a face I'll probably never see again and a name that I can't match with the right face because it's the only name she gave me that night: _Stella._

None of this, mind you, is intended to deride Luna or make it sound like I don't care about her at all. If I'm going to be forcibly betrothed to somebody, I'm glad it's her; at least this way I'm in this with someone I already know and trust. She and I were close friends when we were children, and while we've grown apart as time marched ever onward, we never fell completely out of touch and our interactions remain as cordial as they ever were – well, minus all of the childish games. But I don't feel the way you're supposed to feel about your bride-to-be, the person you're going to spend the rest of your life with, and as far as I know that lack of feeling is mutual. Maybe we can learn to love each other that way someday, but from my present vantage point, the nature of our inevitable union makes it all seem so ass-backwards. And it makes me feel kind of guilty, if I'm being honest.

I guess what I'm really trying to say is this: when you're convinced that a romantic bond simply isn't in the cards for you, it makes you value your other bonds all the more. _Real_ love is infuriatingly hard to come by, so you take what you can get. My mother passed away when I was little and I have no siblings. That leaves me with my father and the three non-biological brothers with whom I was sharing a trailer at the Coernix Station in Duscae, and possibly Luna depending on however she feels. These are the people who look at me and just see Noctis. It may not sound like much, but it's good enough.

I was the last of the four in my traveling party to wake up, and it was still dark enough in my bunk that I couldn't tell how late I'd slept. I could hear voices down the hall, but they were unfamiliar, so I finally forced myself out of bed and went to investigate.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty!" said Prompto, who was sitting on a chair watching television. "You missed breakfast."

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Uh… I'm watching TV," he answered, eyeing me quizzically. "What, did your eyes suddenly stop working overnight or something?"

"Let me try this again," I said. "What are you _watching?_ "

"It's this show called _Existence Is Bizarre_ ," he explained. "It's about this teenage girl who travels through time trying to fix things and always ends up making everything worse."

"Never heard of it."

"I just started on season four," he said. "Still haven't figured out whether they're creating alternate timelines, or if they're just rewriting the same one over and over. I mean, if they're rewriting the same timeline, then that means the alternate futures never happen, so why does the main character still remember them? But then—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I said. "I've only been up for about ten minutes, Prompto. You might want to slow down a bit."

"I'm just having trouble keeping everything straight," he went on. "That's the thing about time travel stories. The ramifications are always so confusing."

I'm pretty sure Ignis's jaw would have hit the floor upon hearing Prompto use a word like _ramifications_.

"Also, I'm watching to see if these two girls ever hook up, 'cause they're both pretty cute and they have tons of chemistry."

Now _that_ sounds more like the Prompto we all know and love.

"Is that so?" I asked with a little snicker.

"Between you and me, I just might reconsider my stance on the whole 'no dyed hair' thing."

"Good to hear," I said through a yawn. "I'm gonna go get a coffee. You want anything?"

"I'm good."

"Where are the others?"

"Outside waiting on the mechanic," Prompto said. "You'd think there wouldn't have been anyone getting their car fixed ahead of us out here, but here we are."

"Thanks," I said. "Well, enjoy your show."

"It'll be over soon," he said. "Catch you later."

I stepped outside and was nearly blinded by the sunlight. Once my eyes adjusted I spotted Ignis and Gladiolus at a picnic table nearby, and a cool breeze soon arrived to welcome me to the great outdoors. As I headed for the convenience store I could hear Prompto shouting "KISS ALREADY, DAMMIT" through the trailer walls.

I walked into the store and started making my way toward the coffee machine when I spotted the couple I'd met the night before, both looking like they'd just gotten out of bed and put on whatever was available to wear. They casually browsed the magazines, each with an arm around the other's waist – and I had to stop myself from observing how well the blonde filled out the pink yoga shorts that clung to her every curve. It made me think of my paranoid fear of Deadeye attacking them in the middle of their make-out session, like something out of a cheesy horror movie, and I chuckled to – and at – myself.

"You're being rather clingy today," the young man observed.

"Is that a problem?" she asked, removing her arm from around him.

"Not at all," he said, and he gave her a kiss on her forehead.

She looked up at him, and though I couldn't see her face I could tell she was smiling. "You know," she said, "when I woke up this morning, and you were still there beside me… well, I knew my day had already been made."

"Were you afraid I wouldn't keep my promise?"

"Maybe a little," she admitted. She bent slightly forward to pull a magazine off the rack with a cover story about the thus-far unsuccessful manhunt for an infamous masked thief known only as Quicksilver. "I mean, I know how you hate backing down from a challenge."

He laughed softly at that. "Do you want to know the one thing I hate even more?" he asked.

"What's that?"

"Disappointing a beautiful girl," he said, and he affectionately slapped her ass.

"You're _such_ a cad sometimes," she said. "And yet I wouldn't have you any other way."

The coffee machine was out of order, so I bought a bottle of orange juice instead. The shopkeeper offered a friendly greeting and told me to let him know if we needed to stay another night at the caravan. I thanked him and went outside to join the others at the picnic table. I could hear a man shouting from inside the garage, complaining about the price of the mechanic's services. I suppose that's preferable to hearing complaints about shoddy repair work.

"Hey guys," I said. "Any word about the mechanic?"

"The person ahead of us is paying for his repairs now, finally," Gladiolus answered. "I think he's paying in cash. This guy must be pretty well off."

"Or pretty stupid," Ignis countered. "Who goes around with enough cash in their wallet to pay off auto repair bills in this day and age? Might as well wear a sign around his neck that says, 'PLEASE ROB ME.'"

The man in question then immediately came stomping out of the garage with a flamboyant swagger, dressed in red and orange clothes that hid a grayish complexion. He called for someone named Enkidu, who was soon revealed to be a dog, and I could overhear him grumbling about "ladies who dress like men" or something like that. Then he and his dog entered an old red muscle car, the backseat of which was filled with swords for whatever reason, and zoomed away as we approached the garage. It made me momentarily wonder if someone had slipped something into my orange juice when I wasn't looking.

And then we met the mechanic, and I think I can comfortably say none of us expected what we saw.

"Hey guys!" the mechanic said. "You must be the _other_ fellows who need your car fixed! Sorry to keep y'all waiting!"

The mechanic was a girl who looked around Prompto's age (he's a little younger than the rest of us). She wore a red trucker hat with yellow stripes and a company logo over her curly blond hair. Her lemon-yellow jacket, smudged with oil and grease in numerous places, was unzipped most of the way down, enough to show her cleavage, and was too short to cover her midriff. She completed her ensemble with short denim shorts, white boots with black stockings, a pair of work gloves, and black goggles dangling around her neck.

Prompto's eyes went so wide upon seeing this girl for the first time that I was shocked they didn't roll out of their sockets.

"My name's Cindy," she said, her voice accented with a warm "country girl" twang. "I'm the head mechanic 'round these parts, or wherever I happen to be unless my grandpa's around. Pleased to meet you!"

"The pleasure's all ours," I said, extending a hand that she vigorously shook.

"You can say that again," Prompto mumbled, and Ignis elbowed him in the gut.

"So which one of these cars outside belongs to you?" she asked.

"That one," I said, pointing toward the Regalia.

She immediately recognized the make and model and made a face like her favorite movie star had just asked her on a date, covering her mouth with her hands to hush her gasping.

"That's a Regalia!" she squealed, bounding toward the car. "Well, ain't _y'all_ just fabulously well-to-do!"

"You might say that," I said.

"I've never worked on one of these before," she said, circling the car and running her fingers along the chassis. "It's so beautiful. I almost feel like I ain't worthy to touch this baby!" She chuckled to herself as she snapped out of fangirl mode. "The key word, of course, is _almost._ Don't you worry one bit. My grandpa's the finest auto mechanic you'll ever meet, and he taught me every trick in his book. Your car's in good hands."

"I appreciate that."

She beamed, as if pleasantly surprised by my reaction. "So what seems to be the trouble?"

"I think there's something wrong with the engine," I explained.

"Well," she said, "let's pop the hood open and have ourselves a look."

As soon as I opened the hood, Cindy pulled a flashlight out of her pocket and bent to have a closer look. And every time she made some kind of sound indicating she didn't like what she saw, I could picture my father growing angrier and angrier. Can't say that I blame you, Imaginary Dad – that coin toss was my stupid idea in the first place.

"Shoot, that is _not_ looking good," she said. "Are you able to start it?"

"Uh, I tried last night," Prompto answered. "There was a lot of smoke, and it kept making this weird rattling noise."

Cindy stood upright and let out a big sigh as she put her hands on her hips. "I was afraid you might say something like that," she said. "Sounds like the telltale signs of a blown engine."

"Oh, _God,_ " Gladiolus groaned, hiding his face in his palm.

"A blown engine?" I repeated. "How the hell did my car end up with a blown engine?"

"Could have been a number of things," she explained. "Maybe you got some mechanical issues nobody noticed. Or maybe y'all pushed the poor thing harder than it could handle. It happens to drag racers all the time."

Out the corner of my eye I could see Prompto slowly crumbling under the might of Ignis's death glare.

"This'll be keeping me busy for a while," Cindy said. "I'll have to check for anything else that might have gone wrong in there. Gotta figure out whether your car needs a few replacement parts or a whole new engine."

"Shit," I muttered. "This is gonna cost a _fortune._ "

"Oh, and there's one other thing," Cindy continued, her cute face contorted into a nervous cringe. "The credit card reader is kind of on the fritz."

"Are you serious?"

"Afraid so," she said. "We'll have to order a new one. It won't be here until… probably sometime next week. That's what got the last customer so ticked off at me. Good thing all he had was a flat tire." She sighed again. "I'm real sorry, guys. I can fix pretty much any car or airship you send my way, but something like that might as well be alien gadgetry."

* * *

"Well, so much for the road trip," I declared.

We were gathered around the picnic table having lunch. It wasn't like there was much else to do. Not far away, we could see Cindy continuing her inspection of the Regalia. Nearly all the other people who'd been staying at the caravan were long gone by then, except for two guys at another table arguing over who should direct _Last Vision 15._ ("The original director tried to make it a _musical_ at one point," one guy said. "We dodged a bullet the size of the goddamn moon!") Coming from the daily hustle and bustle of Insomnia to the near dead quiet of the Coernix Station was pretty jarring, even though we'd been out of the city for a few days at that point. It made me wonder how people living and working out there managed to not go crazy. Maybe they preferred keeping to themselves. Cindy came off as more of a "social butterfly" type, but then again she seemed pretty happy anyway, so maybe it was just me.

"Yes," Ignis said, "it would seem that whatever exploring we do from here on out will have to be done on foot. Such a pity."

"Sounds like a plan," I said.

"You can't be serious."

"You mean you _weren't_ serious?" I retorted with a little smirk.

Gladiolus started to laugh at that, and his perpetually open shirt blew about in the breeze. "Hey Prompto," he said, "I think Noctis just stole your line!"

Prompto said nothing in reply; in fact, he wasn't even looking at any of us. Instead he appeared to just be staring off into space – in the general direction of the garage. Cindy was taking off her hat to wipe the sweat from her brow. Then she put it back on and bent over the engine again, swaying her hips to the beat of a song playing from a nearby radio.

"Prompto?" Gladiolus said, and he whistled as if trying to get a puppy's attention. "You listening, buddy?" He started snapping his fingers in Prompto's ear. And when that still didn't work, he just gave Prompto a little shove and called out "HEY!"

"What do you want?" Prompto muttered, shooting Gladiolus a scowl. "Jeez…"

"I'm talking to you, man."

"Yeah, well, I wasn't listening."

"I noticed."

"What are you doing over there?" I chimed in. "Are you zoning out or something?"

"I don't know," Prompto said with a shrug, "I just don't really—"

"Oh, _now_ I know what you're doing!" interrupted Gladiolus, having followed Prompto's gaze to the spunky mechanic, and he started to laugh.

"Man, you don't know _shit._ "

"Hey," Gladiolus teased, "I know she's cute, but it's rude of you to stare."

Meanwhile Cindy had paused to take a little break. She leaned back against the side of the Regalia and started guzzling from a bottle of cola, completely oblivious to our topic of conversation. Then she walked over to the radio to change the station, presumably because she didn't feel like waiting through a commercial break for more music.

"Shut up," Prompto said, shoving Gladiolus with a little extra effort than Gladio was expecting. "I'm not _staring._ I'm just _watching._ "

"Wasn't aware there was a difference."

"You learn something new every day," I said.

" _GO! NOW! IF YOU WANT IT!_ " we heard a macho voice growl over aggressive distorted guitars on Cindy's radio. " _AN OTHERWORLD AWAITS YOU!_ " She immediately changed the station to one playing brisk acoustic folk.

"You _both_ suck," Prompto said, extending his middle finger. "Can't a guy admire a master of her craft at work?"

"Oh, please," Ignis retorted. "The only thing _you're_ admiring about that girl right now is how good her bum looks in those shorts."

"Shut up, Ignis."

"Why don't you just go talk to her?" I asked.

Prompto folded his arms across his chest and started shaking his head. "I don't know, man," he said.

"What's the worst that could happen?" said Gladiolus. "She says no?"

"She could douse me with pepper spray or kick me in the groin or whack me with a tire iron or something," Prompto said. "Possibly even all of the above."

"That _would_ be rather terrible," said Ignis, smirking at Prompto from across the table.

"Thanks, Ignis."

"Come on," I said. "Since when were _you_ the type to get cold feet over talking to a cute girl? You do it all the time at the bar."

"Do you have any idea how many shots I have to take to work up the nerve?" Prompto asked, scratching the back of his neck.

"Yes, I do," I answered, "because you put them on _my_ tab."

"That was just the one time!"

"People don't forget."

"Of course they do," Prompto said. "They just never forget the things I _want_ them to."

That remark caught Ignis's interest, and he turned his head and gave me a look. I recognized his furrowed brow and generally dour disposition as his usual "we need to talk" face. He didn't say anything, but I knew at some point he'd try to get me for a little one-on-one time. I wasn't quite sure what he wanted to talk about though. He probably wanted to scold me for buying Prompto all that liquor, even though it really wasn't as many shots as our conversation had made it sound like.

Believe it or not (and most people nowadays don't), there had once been a time when Ignis took no issue with my penchant for partying, mainly because he used to be quite the party animal himself when we were in school. There wasn't a drinking game he would turn down, or a girl who wouldn't compel him to turn up the charm, or a cheesy pop song that he wouldn't sing along to at the top of his lungs once he had enough booze in his system. That started to change once he chose books over bars and pursued higher education in political science, but it didn't completely disappear until he'd joined the ranks of the royal strategists, primarily as my chief advisor.

Ignis had even untagged himself in every picture on FaceSpace that didn't make him out to be a consummate professional. The only thing keeping him from deleting his profile altogether was the fact that it was the only place most of his pictures could still be found, having lost them to a computer virus a few years ago. Gladiolus has tried for years to talk him into joining Chirper so he could follow the news instantaneously and keep in touch with people, but Ignis prefers to keep his friends close and the Internet at arm's length.

"So are you going to talk to Cindy or not?" Gladiolus asked Prompto, giving him another little nudge.

"Well, what am I supposed to say?" said Prompto. "She's working right now. My usual lines are more… bar-appropriate."

For the sake of reference, here's a quick look at Prompto's top five favorite pickup lines:

5) "Someone call animal control, 'cause I just found a fox!"

4) "You could totally be a part-time model." He got that one from a song that I think he still doesn't know was intended as a joke.

3) "My phone's in my pocket, but I'm also _really_ glad to see you."

2) "I must have died and gone to heaven, because you are an angel." He's had more luck with that one than he probably should.

1) "My best friend is the prince of Lucis." A shocking list topper, I know.

Honorable mention: Prompto used to be fond of the old "what's your sign" line until one girl told him her sign was "DO NOT ENTER."

"Have you considered saying _hello?_ " Ignis suggested.

"That's boring."

"Suit yourself," said Ignis, reaching for his bottle of water, "but I find it quite the potent icebreaker."

"Well, _you're_ boring."

"All right, that's enough stalling out of you," Gladiolus teased. "Go talk to that girl before I do."

"She'll probably think I'm a weirdo," argued Prompto.

"She'll think you're an even _bigger_ weirdo if she catches you staring at her from two hundred feet away," I said.

"Damn," Prompto murmured, leaning back and folding his arms. "I guess there's no way to come out of this looking good, is there?"

"Well, how do you like that?" said Ignis. "He _can_ be taught!"

"Screw all of you," said Prompto, waving his arm at us as if swatting a fly. "I'm going. She can't be any worse than you guys."

"God help you if she is!" Gladiolus joked.

Prompto ignored him and walked away toward the garage. He only stopped to check his reflection in a window and fuss with his hair a bit. We all laughed at that; I'm pretty sure a girl covered in sweat and car grease won't mind a few rogue strands of Prompto's hair not doing what he wants them to do. Besides, I've seen men with far sillier hairdos have their fair share of success with the ladies.

They nearly bumped into each other as he went around to the door, which got us laughing harder. His body language immediately turned apologetic as he rubbed the back of his neck, but Cindy kept smiling all the way through. She then gestured for him to follow her into the garage. My guess: he must have asked her how things were going with the Regalia. Seemed like a smart strategy. That's what _I_ would have done, anyway.

"Well, guys," Gladiolus said, glancing across the table at me as our laughter died down, "I'd really hate to miss this, but I need to use the little boys' room. Be right back."

"See if you can find a proper shirt in there while you're at it," said Ignis.

Ignis is the kind of guy who doesn't like going anywhere in public until and unless he's dressed to the nines, favoring a black suit with a purple-and-black dress shirt and shiny black shoes. As such it's always baffled him that Gladiolus goes around with his shirt completely open, putting his bare chest on display for all to see. Women don't seem to mind since Gladio's in pretty great physical shape, but I honestly can't blame Ignis for feeling the way he does. I mean, Gladio's job is to be my bodyguard. He's supposed to come between me and anyone who might try to do me harm. Can't the guy put on a little body armor?

"Of course," said Gladiolus. "It wouldn't do for the royal meat shield to go without a proper uniform, now would it?"

He rose and headed for our trailer, and out the corner of my eye I could see Ignis watching him go. Once he was confident Gladiolus was comfortably out of earshot, he turned to face me.

"Highness," he said, the use of my title signaling his shift to professional mode, "I was wondering if we might have a word."

"Well, now seems to be as good a time as any," I said. "So what's this all about?"

"We need to talk about Prompto."

I already didn't like where this conversation was going. I could feel my muscles growing tense at the mention of Prompto's name in such a stern tone of voice.

"What about him?" I asked.

"You _know_ what I'm talking about," Ignis answered, keeping his voice low even though we were both sure nobody else could hear us. "I've been meaning to discuss this with you for some time, honestly."

"He's not a bad guy, Ignis."

"Even so, I don't like what he does to you."

Well, _that_ was confusing. All Prompto had really done _to_ me was invite me out for nights on the town, going to bars, having drinks, and talking to pretty girls – nights that, admittedly, sometimes veered a bit too far out of control. And also the occasional high-speed joyride. He's even talked about trying some mountain climbing. The guy's always been something of an adrenaline junkie. But those are really all things he does _with_ me. Nobody's forcing me to hang out with him.

"What do you mean, what he _does_ to me?" I asked.

"He has this odd influence over you," Ignis explained. "Makes you more lenient towards him."

"Lenient?"

Ignis sighed and rubbed his forehead, and I couldn't tell whether he was frustrated with me for not understanding him or just upset that this conversation was ever necessary. Ever since he took this job, I get the sense he thinks he has to prove that he isn't just there because he's got connections. When Ignis was first hired, there were all sorts of grumblings among political veterans that our friendship would cause me to unfairly value his opinion over the beliefs of far more experienced members of the strategic advisory board. The papers tried digging up dirt on him from when he used to come to the bars with us, and they found some, which is what led to all that FaceSpace untagging. All of these combined efforts to discredit Ignis had him briefly contemplating resigning his post before ever even assuming it. My father ultimately had to step in and insist he be given a fair chance to prove himself, and he turned out to be every bit as valuable and outspoken an advisor as even the most senior among the board members. His once-scandalous bar-hopping has long been a thing of the past and no longer even concerns the general public, but Ignis remains ever conscious of its consequences and vigilant in his resolve to distance himself from it more and more.

"No matter what he does," he said, "no matter how badly he screws up, you _never_ take him to task for his actions. He uses you to pick up women, and you act like it's nothing. He gets you drunk enough to make an ass of yourself in public, and you laugh about it later. He blows the engine in _your_ car, and you don't even tell him to foot the repair bill." He paused for a quick sip from his water bottle. "For God's sake, even when he commits a crime severe enough for a foreign nation to hunt him down _as we speak_ , you open _your_ country's capital city to him."

"He's our friend, Ignis," I said. "We can't just turn our backs on him."

"Be that as it may, Highness," Ignis said, "you're going to be _king_ someday. Is this really what you want Lucis to be when you take over? A safe haven for fugitives, so long as they're a right good laugh at parties?"

I hated to admit it, so I didn't say anything in response, but Ignis had a point. All I could do was let out a sigh and look away from him.

"Look," Ignis went on, "I know how much his friendship means to you. I truly do. And I _hate_ that it's come to this."

"Really?" I countered. "You seem rather keen on locking him up and throwing away the key."

"Noctis," he said, "it's not that I _want_ him to go to jail." He reached for his water bottle again, and then stopped and folded his arms on the table instead. "But I have to tell you this, as both your friend and your chief advisor. Any king who's worth his salt, much like anyone else in the world, needs to know when to be a friend… and when to put his foot down."

I got myself lost in thought, trying to find something I could say to stick up for my friend. But no matter how hard I tried, I kept drawing a blank. Just then Gladiolus arrived from the trailer, and I was grateful to have this train of thought derailed for the time being.

"Hey guys," Gladiolus said. "Sorry to disappoint you, Ignis, but I didn't pack any undershirts. I didn't think you'd want me borrowing any of yours."

Ignis said nothing and simply rolled his eyes.

"So how's our boy doing over there?" Gladiolus asked.

I looked over to where Prompto was still trying to flirt with Cindy. They were standing pretty far apart and didn't look very affectionate at all. There was no physical contact, and his body language seemed stiff and awkward. She wasn't acting any differently at all though. I wondered if she even realized that she was being hit on, or if living in such a sparsely populated area had stunted her ability to pick up on social cues. Or maybe she just wasn't interested in Prompto that way. Regardless, it was clear that Prompto wasn't getting anywhere with the mechanic, and from the looks of things I think he would have agreed with that assessment.

"Well, she hasn't beaten him to death with a monkey wrench yet," I replied. "I'd say that's a good sign."

* * *

Another couple hours went by as we waited for the word on the Regalia. Gladiolus and Prompto had gone into the trailer to watch television, while Ignis was napping. I had gone to the convenience store to stock up on some magazines, and I was browsing the rack when Cindy came inside. It was rather hot outside that day, and she was clearly basking in the air conditioning the store offered. There were some new oil smudges on her jacket and a dirty handkerchief sticking out of one of her pockets. I also noticed that, between the heat and all the manual labor she'd been doing for much of the day, she seemed pretty exhausted.

"Oh, hey there," she said when she spotted me. "I was gonna track you down, but I didn't know which trailer y'all were staying in. I'm finally done checking everything. Sorry to take so long, but… well, when the repair team only has one person on it, these things tend to take a while. I'm just taking a break for a little bit, if you don't mind."

"It's all right," I said. "I'm not really in a hurry. Better to take your time and do it right than just rush through everything and half-ass it, you know?"

She chuckled at that as she pulled a bottle of iced tea out of the refrigerator. "If it makes you feel any better, you won't need a whole new engine after all," she said.

"Thank God," I said. "I needed some good news."

I pulled a sport drink out of the refrigerator – yeah, I know, it's basically sugar water and food coloring, but I felt like having something different – and we went over to the register. Cindy fumbled through her pockets looking for enough change, so I offered to pay for hers, but she politely declined. Her voice trailed off before she could remind me that I was about to pay her a hefty repair bill. But what's another thirty gil on top of that if it means I can do my good deed for the day?

"Hey, what's your name anyway?" she asked.

"I'm Noctis."

"Well, Noctis, thanks for being patient with all this," she said. "Most of my customers can't wait to get out of here. I mean, I get why – not much to do or see 'round here, you know? Kind of… intensifies your focus, or whatever." She paused to take a deep sigh and adjust her hat. "I personally like it out here. It's just so… _peaceful._ "

"I'm still getting used to the quiet, to tell you the truth."

"Y'all _did_ strike me as city boys. Where are you from?"

"We're from Insomnia."

"Wow, the capital?" she said. "Yeah, that _is_ quite the far cry from this place!"

"Tell me about it," I said with a little smile. "So, got any recommendations for how to pass the time?"

"Just keep on watching TV," she said. "Unless y'all think you can discover the Shrine of Ramuh somehow, that is."

"The Shrine of Ramuh?"

The shopkeeper overheard us and started chuckling at the mention of it. "It's some underground temple where the ancients are said to have worshiped the god of thunder," he said. "Supposedly archaeologists are saying it's somewhere out in the middle of the Duscae wilderness. But that's just an old folk legend. Nobody's ever actually found it – probably 'cause it ain't really out there."

"Aw, how do _you_ know?" Cindy countered. "When's the last time you ever went hiking or fishing around here?"

"You know that's not my style," the shopkeeper said. "I'm a man of simple pleasures, Cindy. Give me my shop, my mop, and a pack of smokes, and that's all I need in this neighborhood." He pulled a cigarette out of a small case and lit it up. "Besides, if that shrine was really out there, don't you think it would've been found by now?"

"The world's chock-full of weird secrets," said Cindy. "People are stumbling across new ones all the time. Who knows what else could be out there, just waiting for us to find it?"

"You sure you got into the right line of work?" the shopkeeper teased.

"Positive!" Cindy answered. "Won't see _me_ raiding any tombs anytime soon, that's for sure."

With the locals' argument defused, I sensed an opportunity to change the subject. "So how long have you been working on cars?" I asked Cindy.

"My grandpa started teaching me when I was about six or seven," she said. "He owns a whole chain of repair shops, so I just kind of bounce around to wherever I'm needed. That's how I wound up out here."

"How's business going?" I asked.

"We do all right," she answered. "I get kind of frustrated with the customers sometimes, but… aw, that don't really matter."

"You get a lot of jerks, huh?"

"Don't even get me started," she said.

"Ah, let 'em have it, Cindy," the shopkeeper said, pulling a broom out of a supply closet. "That guy with the flat this morning was a total dick."

"Well, most people just get more frustrated the longer they gotta wait," she said, "and that's fine, I get that. But some people are just jerks from the get-go. I go out of my way to be friendly, 'cause Mama and Daddy taught me to be good to others so they'll be good to you, but those folks won't hold up their end of the bargain. You wouldn't believe how many times people have come off with this whole attitude of ' _awww,_ you're adorable, now someone show me the _real_ mechanic.' Why, just this morning I heard that guy with the flat tire mocking my accent, saying I ought to be milking cows for a living when I don't even live _near_ a farm, let alone _on_ one." She stopped only to sip her iced tea. "Shoot, I guess I got started after all."

"You can't let those people bother you," I said, following her out of the store. "Back home I hear people saying nasty stuff about me all the time. I can't let it get to me or it might drive me crazy, and people will notice and start poking and prodding at me even more. Easier said than done though…"

"I can't help it," she said. "There ain't a lot of people 'round here to talk to, you know? So anytime I meet somebody new, whether it's good or bad, it tends to stick with me."

We took a seat at a small two-person table under an umbrella. After a long afternoon of working on the Regalia, she clearly reveled in the chance to relax. She even took her hat off and ran her fingers through her hair to fluff it up a bit.

"Hey Noctis," she said, "can I let you in on a li'l secret?"

"Secret?" I asked. "What kind of secret?"

She leaned over and beckoned for me to come closer.

"My name's not actually Cindy."

"It's not?"

She shook her head. "Nope," she said. "My _real_ name is Cidney, with a C. I changed it 'cause I got tired of everyone hearing that name and assuming I was a boy. It was kind of funny when I was a kid, but once I got my job in auto repair it started ticking me off something fierce."

"I think you held out a lot longer than I would have," I said with a little smile.

"I reckon I can't win, you know?" she went on. "No matter what I do, people don't take me seriously. They act all surprised when I get their cars up and running again, like there's _no way_ a cute li'l thing like me could know her way 'round such a _manly_ domain. I use my real name and wear a proper uniform, and everyone thinks I'm a guy. So I switch to a girly name, throw on some teeny-tiny little shorts, and show off the Wonder Twins up here a li'l bit, and people think I'm being all sleazy. But really I do it to be like: _yep_ , I'm a pretty girl; _yep_ , I know how to fix your car; and _nope_ , believe it or not, there ain't nothing wrong with that, and I'll rub it in your face 'til you get that." She paused to calm herself down a bit, and then something occurred to her. " _Ain't nothing wrong…_ shoot, that's a double negative, isn't it."

She shrugged and gulped down the rest of her iced tea.

"Sorry 'bout that," she murmured. "I know y'all ain't paying me to stand on my soapbox and preach. Still… thanks for letting me vent."

I smiled at her from across the table. "Cheers, Cidney," I said, and I raised my sport drink as if offering a toast.

"Aw, you can keep calling me Cindy," she said with a little laugh as we tapped our bottles together. "It's a much prettier name anyway."

As I took a few gulps of my sport drink my thoughts briefly turned to Prompto, and the question of how exactly his chat with Cindy had gone. He hadn't wanted to get into much detail about it, but while he wasn't the type to kiss and tell, he was also easy enough to read that I could tell when things hadn't gone the way he'd wanted. I wondered if he could see us through the window, and if he could, whether seeing me and the mechanic hitting it off would bother him at all. Ignis would have given me a light smack on the head and a stern reminder of my impending nuptials. Gladio would have joked about how he liked her but figured he had a snowball's chance in hell with her as soon as he saw her with me. As for Prompto… he probably would have muttered some bitter remark about how I'm always "stealing the best girls" from him and refused to address it further. But all I was really trying to do was have a friendly conversation with her. Imagine that. What a scandal.

My thoughts were interrupted with a snap of Cindy's fingers.

"Just remembered why else I was tracking you down," she said, and as she continued I noticed her tone growing increasingly nervous. "I hate to spoil our little bonding moment here, but now that I'm done inspecting your car… you gotta know how much the repairs will cost you."

* * *

"Okay, guys," I said, "time to empty our wallets."

We were sitting on our beds inside the trailer counting up all of our cash. With the credit card reader out of order, our options were either this or waiting until the replacement reader came, and we had no idea when that would be. Knowing our recent luck, it probably would have gotten lost in the mail anyway.

"What about you?" I asked Prompto, noticing that his wallet didn't leave his pocket.

He sighed and shrugged his shoulders dejectedly. "I'm all tapped out, bro."

"How the hell did you run out of money?" Gladiolus asked. "We were supposed to bring enough to last the whole trip."

"Uh, here's how," Prompto said. "One: compared to you guys, I am a goddamn _pauper._ And two: I lost my last two hundred gil in that stupid bet with _you_ yesterday, remember?"

"Oh yeah," Gladiolus said, laughing a bit.

"Gentlemen, our total comes to 927 gil," Ignis announced as he finished counting. "That isn't _nearly_ enough to cover the cost. That may not even be enough to replace a bloody spark plug."

"So what do we do now?" Gladiolus asked. "Just sit in this trailer twiddling our thumbs and watching TV until they replace the damn card reader?"

"We can't," I said. "We only have enough money for four more nights, and Cindy said the new card reader won't arrive until next week."

"Hang on," Prompto cut in. "Why _can't_ we just stay here until it comes? I mean, what are these people gonna do, evict us? It's not _our_ fault they can't take our credit cards."

"Because Noctis is expected in Altissia in three days, Prompto," Ignis pointed out. "Can't keep the future missus waiting."

"Duty calls," I muttered.

Gladiolus shook his head and pounded the mattress in frustration. "Damn it!" he growled. "There has to be _some_ way we can get out of here!"

We sat speechless for a moment and tried to think of something – _anything_ – that could help us pay off the repair bill in time to reach Altissia. The only sound in the whole trailer was the television in the background. It was playing a commercial for what sounded like a sporting goods store. I focused on listening to the voiceover while the others mumbled half-finished sentences that trailed off as they realized their ideas wouldn't help. The speaker was shouting about some big sale throughout the store that coming weekend: golf clubs, gym equipment, camping supplies, and… _hunting gear._ Somehow this random commercial had triggered a memory of something I'd seen in the convenience store the night before.

And just like that, the light bulb in my brain finally switched on.

"I think I have an idea, guys," I said. "And if this works, we'd have enough cash to pay off this bill _twice_ and still be set for the rest of the trip."

"Well, _this_ I've got to hear," said Ignis.

"It's simple, really," I said. "We go hunting for Deadeye."

There was a moment of silence while everyone let the idea sink in and bounce around in their brains. Ignis looked deep in thought, staring into space and stroking his chin. Prompto mostly looked confused and uneasy. But Gladio didn't seem keen on this idea at all, looking at me with a narrow-eyed grimace.

"Are you out of your goddamn mind?" he said.

"Wait a minute," Prompto cut in. "Who the hell is Deadeye?"

"He's a Behemoth," Gladiolus explained. "He's blind in one eye – hence the name – but he's still one of the biggest, nastiest bastards in a species full of nothing but big nasty bastards. There's a wanted poster for him in the store. I had a chat with the shopkeeper about him this morning while you and Noct were in here doing whatever. The shopkeeper says people have been going after him for months, but nobody's been able to take him out. He just kills _everyone_ who invades his territory."

"Well, _this_ plan's sounding like a real winner," said Ignis.

"Look, I know it sounds crazy," I said, "but there's no other way out of this."

"Like hell there isn't!" Gladiolus shouted. "Have you heard the _stories_ about this thing? You don't even have to _hunt_ him to piss him off! Some girl went into the woods looking for flowers she could sell when she got back home, and then she just never came back. Nobody saw her come out of the woods, and nobody ever heard from her again. Search parties were looking all over Duscae for weeks and couldn't find a trace of her until three days ago. They found her body lying next to a tree with a big hole through her guts. The son of a bitch impaled her with his horn and then just left her there to bleed to death."

"Holy shit," Prompto said in a hushed whisper.

"That's what Deadeye does _,_ " Gladiolus continued. "Every person he's ever killed has eventually been found. He doesn't even kill them because he wants something to eat. He just wants them _dead._ "

"So I take it you'd rather stay here," said Ignis.

"Good guess."

"Well, I don't know what else we can do," I said. "The way I see it, there's four of us and one of him. We've got three people with elite combat training, and he just runs around attacking everything in sight. We can outsmart him. We can track him down and get him cornered. And then we kick his ass, bring his horn back here, and walk away with 25,000 gil in our pockets."

"Twenty-five _thousand_ gil?" Prompto repeated.

"Twenty-five _thousand,_ " I confirmed. "Like I said, that's more than enough money for the repair bill."

"Noctis," said Gladiolus, "I really don't think you understand what you're putting us up against here. Deadeye is bigger than us, stronger than us, faster than us, and a hell of a lot _meaner_ than us."

"Yeah, that's true," I said. "But I bet he can't do _this._ "

I raised my left hand and snapped my fingers, and suddenly my hand was shrouded in a bright reddish-orange glow: the beginning stage of casting Fire magic.

"Oh," I continued, "and I'm _definitely_ sure he can't do _this_ either."

I raised my right hand and made a flick of the wrist, which summoned a long falchion sword that materialized out of thin air. It hung in the air just long enough for me to grip the handle.

And then I looked around the room at my friends, all of whom stared back at me with awestruck expressions on their faces. Perhaps it was because I don't usually show off like this. Or maybe they were just surprised that I did this inside the trailer. I'm not really sure.

"We may not look like much," I said, "but that's only because people underestimate how powerful we really are. And maybe we don't realize that either. I don't know about you guys, but I feel like I've only just begun to understand what I'm really capable of, even after all that training back home. Honestly, there may not be any people in the entire world who are more qualified to face Deadeye than the four in this room."

"Noctis," Gladiolus murmured, "we've never done _anything_ like this before."

"Hey," I said, "maybe there _is_ another solution to our problem that we haven't thought of yet. Of course, I personally disagree with that. But if you guys still don't want to do this, I understand. That's why I'm only going to ask you this once."

I shook my hands in a rapid wrist-flicking motion, and the sword and spell both disappeared. Then I simply folded my arms, leaned forward, and asked my question.

"Are you in, or are you out?"

* * *

The Duscae afternoon sun was typically pleasant this time of year, right in that low-to-mid-80s sweet spot that I personally find most favorable. But on this day it was roasting the area up in the low 90s as we removed our belongings from the trailer. It felt as if even nature itself was telling us something: _Don't do this. Stay inside where it's nice and safe and air conditioned, and the rent is relatively cheap, and the cable channels are just plentiful enough to keep you from getting bored._ But whether or not that was really the case, it didn't matter. Our choice had been made, and we began loading our duffel bags with whatever we could fit and leaving the rest in the Regalia's spacious trunk.

"Hey fellas!" Cindy said as she watched us pack up. "Y'all going on a camping trip or something? I reckon that's one way to save money on rent!"

"Haven't you heard?" the shopkeeper called over as he locked up the trailer. "These guys aren't going camping, they're going _hunting._ "

"Hunting?" she asked, tilting and scratching her head. "Hunting for what?"

"We're going after Deadeye," I said.

I hadn't noticed that Cindy had been carrying a wrench until she dropped it on the ground, standing with her eyes wide and her mouth agape.

"No," she said, shaking her head and gripping the nearest blond curls. "No, no, you can't be serious."

"Hey, don't worry," Prompto said. "We'll be fine – especially me."

"Guys, I can't let y'all do this!" Cindy said. "Not on account of me and the repair money…"

"Don't worry about us," said Ignis, tucking a map of Duscae into his coat pocket. "You just focus on fixing the car, all right?"

"But it's _Deadeye!_ "

"We know what we're up against," I said. "Trust me: we can take him."

The poor girl's knees were buckling so much I thought she looked on the verge of collapsing to the ground. "That's what they _all_ say!" she argued.

I walked over to the young mechanic and gave her a comforting pat on her shoulder. Still, I wondered how many hunters she'd had to watch leave the safe haven of the caravan only for that to be the last time she'd see them alive. According to the shopkeeper, they'd personally stopped keeping track about two months ago and wouldn't read the papers whenever another incident occurred. Still, in a way, it made me feel like we'd made the right call in choosing to pursue the Behemoth. It wasn't only for our own benefit, but so people like Cindy and the shopkeeper and everyone else in this otherwise calm little corner of the world, whether they called it home or were just passing through, wouldn't have to live in fear anymore.

Was that something else the others all said? Best not to think about it, I suppose.

"We'll be all right," I assured her. "We're tougher than we look. And I _know_ you'll have our car up and running again when – not if - _when_ we come back."

This seemed to settle her down, but only a little bit, and she started backing away toward the garage.

"Y'all come back now, you hear?" she murmured. "First sign of trouble, you think you can't handle it – you turn around and come straight back here. And nobody will think any less of you for it."

"You have our word," I said.

"Good luck, you guys," the shopkeeper said. "You'll need it against that sumbitch."

 _Not really,_ I thought. _He'll need it against us._

And with that, we gave one last wave to Cindy and the shopkeeper, crossed the road, and started on our way.

"How do you like that?" Prompto said, leading the way into the wilderness. "Looks like we'll be getting our adventure after all."

Ignis sighed and rolled his eyes. "Looks to me like we should have taken an airship to Altissia," he muttered.

"Never too late to turn back," Gladiolus said, watching Prompto pull out his gun and start taking aim at the trees as if contemplating target practice.

"I beg to differ," said Ignis.

He called out to Prompto with a warning to not do anything _too_ stupid, and Prompto responded with an extended middle finger. There was nothing playful about it; this was done with the same level of irritation Ignis had shown him. As we continued onward and the Coernix Station grew ever smaller behind us, my thoughts turned to my conversation with Ignis earlier that day. I watched Prompto twirling the gun in his hand, and I remembered the Lucis firearms ban and the hefty punishment that would await him if some Lucian authority figure (aside from me) should catch him with it. And for the first time since the day he showed up asking for my help, a sense of foreboding began to creep into the back of my mind as Prompto's big secret – the reason he was living on the lam, a secret that only he and I shared – began gnawing at my conscience.

Ignis was right. In my mind, I _knew_ he was right. But it still felt like he was asking me to throw one of my best friends under the bus. If I did that, I'd have to watch the authorities haul him off, and he would probably have a look on his face like a puppy that had just been kicked. He would be dead weight in the officers' arms; he may not know much about fighting, but he knows when he's been beaten. He'd probably go to jail for a long time, and while he may talk tough, I have no doubt that life behind bars would be a nightmare for the kind of guy he really is. My friendship with him, something that's endured since we were little kids, would suffer damage that most likely would prove irreparable. And I don't know if I have what it takes to do that to him, even if it is the right thing for the king of Lucis to do.

Sometimes I hope my father lives forever.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE**

The author's note quote comes from "Sleeping Giant" by Mastodon; I took my pen name from one of their other songs. The chapter title comes from "Scar Tissue" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, the music video for which features the four band members driving through the desert in a convertible. The bit about the director trying to make _Last Vision 15_ into a musical comes from something Tetsuya Nomura actually tried after he saw the _Les Misérables_ movie (the one with Hugh Jackman and Russell Crowe); some snippets of his original _Versus XIII_ vision appear here (we barely knew ye, Stella) and in Chapter 1. Prompto's 4th-favorite pickup line comes from "The Most Beautiful Girl (In The Room)" by Flight of the Conchords, and the show he watches at the start of the chapter is a shout-out to _Life Is Strange_.

 **Spot the Cameo:** Tidus and Yuna ( _FFX_ ) are the couple playing in the pool (it's no Macalania spring, but it'll do in a pinch). Gilgamesh ( _V_ ) is the jerk with the flat tire. Ashe and Balthier ( _XII_ ) appear again. And poor Aeris is the unfortunate flower girl that Deadeye kills, a similar yet more gruesome version of her death in _VII_. Other _FF_ stuff: Gladiolus borrows the "rude of you to stare" line from Zidane ( _IX_ ), and that song on Cindy's radio is "Otherworld" from _X_.


	3. So I Wean Myself Off Slowly

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own _Final Fantasy XV_ , its characters, or any other intellectual property belonging to Square Enix. Nor do I own any other pieces of pop culture that I reference here.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Sometimes I wish this site let you choose more than two genre categories.

* * *

 **3** _so i wean myself off slowly_

* * *

The cool morning air rushed all around me as I tried to keep up with Prompto, and I nearly slipped on the dewy grass in the process. He was running through a clearing toward a lake with the promise of finding some extra food we could add to what we'd packed. It was late enough that I'd slept through the sunrise, but early enough for me to still feel exhausted from waking up. I wasn't sure where all of his energy had come from; then again, he's always been more of a morning person than I've ever been. I couldn't figure out what exactly was so important that we had to rush out at this hour, and I certainly wasn't keen on leaving Ignis and Gladiolus back at our campsite. By that point our tent had been reduced to a mere blip among the trees at the top of a hill that I did not look forward to climbing on our way back.

"Prompto, are you sure this is a good idea?" I asked through a yawn.

"You'll just have to trust me, dude."

"Why couldn't we bring the others?"

"It's supposed to be a surprise!"

I considered asking Prompto if it was supposed to be a surprise to me too. He'd only given me the vaguest possible idea of what exactly we were supposed to be searching for, though given our trajectory I thought it safe to assume he wanted to do some fishing. But then why would we leave Gladiolus behind? Of the four of us, Gladio's the most outdoorsy; he's practically a walking encyclopedia of hunting and fishing skills, on top of the combat skills that come with being my bodyguard. Granted, city life doesn't give him many opportunities to actually _practice_ those skills, but it was certainly better than nothing.

As I'd predicted, Prompto had brought me to the lake, which sat in the center of the clearing and appeared to be a perfect watering hole for any local wildlife. An old white water tower stood in the distance near a small patch of trees and an equally old one-story building. I wondered who in the world was supposed to be using the water stored up there, given how little this area had actually been settled, and figured it must have been for whoever was in that building, assuming it hadn't been abandoned long ago. Meanwhile I continued to follow Prompto as he orbited the lake, looking through the tall grass and reeds for whatever he was trying to find.

Oh, and there was also a gigantic beast nearby drinking from the lake. It stood about two or three stories tall and its teal skin was covered in small places on its back and along its giraffe-like neck with little armor scales. It had the build of a giant buffalo and its face resembled that of a boar, the head covered with a heavy bonelike structure and large tusks surrounding its snout.

"What the hell is that thing?" I asked.

"It's a Catoblepas," said Prompto. "I saw it in that travel guide that Gladio made me read. It says they're not very hostile by nature, so as long as we don't piss it off we should be okay."

Somehow that didn't seem very comforting, but I chose to humor Prompto anyway.

"Okay," I said, "I think we're safely out of earshot by now. What are you looking for?"

"It's a rare kind of mushroom," he answered. "It only grows in Duscae."

"Mushrooms?" I repeated in disbelief, laughing a little. "What, are you trying to get us high or something?"

"No, but that's a pretty sweet idea," Prompto said. "The travel guide said it's a popular delicacy around here."

"That's the food you dragged me out here to find?" I asked. "I thought you _hated_ mushrooms."

"I do," he said. "They're nasty as hell. They look weird and smell even funkier when you cook them."

"So why bother trying to find any?"

He stopped searching for a moment and turned to face me with a shrug of his shoulders and an uneasy look on his face. "Well… Ignis still likes them, doesn't he?" he asked.

I didn't answer him right away, so he turned back around and started searching again. His reason for coming out there to search for those mushrooms had caught me off guard, and I looked back in the general direction of the tent with a little sigh.

"You ever wonder how people _started_ eating stuff like this?" he went on, as if that last bit of our conversation hadn't happened. "Like, who was the first person to see this funky-ass fungus growing around lakes and trees and stuff and thought, 'I should put this in my mouth and see what it does'? I mean, at some point in history or prehistory or whatever, that's something that must have happened, right? And back then people didn't know which ones were poisonous, and which ones weren't, and which ones would just give you a really bad trip." He laughed at the thought of it while he sifted through some of the tall grass. "I'm telling you, Noct, our ancestors had balls of _steel._ "

I'll admit, sometimes I do find myself wondering how our species managed to make it this long. We're not the biggest, we're not the strongest, we're not the fastest, we have no natural camouflage mechanisms, and our flesh is far too easily damaged. I suppose our continued survival is a testament – a credit – to the power of the human mind, the capacity for ingenuity and the bravery to withstand thousands of years of sheer trial and error before we got our bearings in the world. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. But thinking about such things would have distracted me from what I _really_ wanted to talk about, which is probably what Prompto would have wanted.

"You know, Prompto," I said softly, "it's going to take a lot more than mushrooms to get Ignis off your case."

He stood upright with a sullen sigh. "You don't think I know that?" he said. "I can't tell him why the feds are after me, Noct. The best I can do is try to make him less pissed off at me."

"He's bound to figure it out eventually," I said.

"Yeah, I know," he muttered. "It kind of makes me wish he could stop being so goddamn _smart._ Then maybe I might stand a chance of having my drinking buddy back, and we can be the Big Four again."

"Hey, come on," I said. "You and me and Gladio, we're the Power Trio. We have plenty of fun when we go out."

"Damn right we do," Prompto said, nodding his head in agreement. "But it's not the same without Iggy, bro. It's like trying to drive the Regalia with three wheels."

"Look, Ignis is too busy with work now," I said. "Politics isn't really a field that lets you take a day off."

"That's bullshit," he countered. "You'll be running the whole damn country someday, and that's never stopped _you_ from going bar-hopping with us."

Well, he certainly caught me there. I wasn't sure there was a way to let him down easy, some less shitty way to tell him that the Power Trio was how things were going to be now that Ignis was through with Insomnia's ever-bustling nightlife. Still, even Prompto had to have known that the Power Trio's days were numbered too, that the only thing keeping it alive was the fact that my father was still alive. And now, with my marriage to Luna approaching, I wasn't even sure we had _that_ much time. Ignis had already thrown himself into his work, Gladio had to always be prepared to throw himself in harm's way, and eventually I was going to be thrust upon the throne. But where did that leave Prompto?

"Well, no one's ever accused _me_ of being responsible," I said, forcing an awkward smile on my face. "Haven't you read the papers?"

I was thinking in particular of an eight-month-old cover story in _The Daily Insomniac,_ the most widely-read newspaper in Lucis. The front page image was an unflattering photo of me drunk in a nightclub downtown with a girl on each arm and a drink in each hand, squinting at the camera and grinning like an idiot. "HAIL TO THE FUTURE KING, BABY," the headline had sneered. It was the sort of sanctimonious drivel I've come to expect from the self-absorbed "moral guardian" opinion columnists over there who think I'm unfit to rule. And why is that? Because I like to go to bars and goof off with my friends and occasionally meet attractive young women, much like any other guy my age. Except it becomes front page news when _I_ do it, because I'm _not_ like other guys, and because somewhere along the line people decided that it was some massive life-ruining world-ending scandal whenever a political figure turned out to not be a perfect saint because controversy sells papers. And then these people wonder why I don't like giving interviews, and they complain about how I'm not "letting the people get to know me" or some bullshit like that when everyone knows they're really just complaining because I'm making their jobs more difficult. Still, I have learned my lesson somewhat; whenever I go out these days I try not to get drunk and I insist on avoiding photo opportunities as much as possible.

Besides, if you _really_ wanted to dig up some reasons why I'm not fit to be the king, I'm sure you could find plenty. I can think of a few reasons off the top of my head right now, as a matter of fact. But everybody wants to run the clichéd "spoiled rich playboy" narrative into the ground, so here we are. Even if all that whiny preaching didn't bother me, the lazy journalism would probably stick in my craw.

Finally Prompto gave a triumphant shout as he discovered a small patch of the mushrooms after we'd completed about three-fourths of a lap around the lake. "It's about damn time!" he said, holding a bunch of them up. "I was beginning to think we went to all this trouble for nothing!"

And then we heard a low-pitched, rumbling growl not far away from where we stood.

"What the hell was that?" asked Prompto.

The growl sounded again, louder and a little closer this time, and I looked over toward the source. It was the Catoblepas, which had been so quiet up to that point that I'd almost forgotten it was there.

"We should probably get out of here," I said.

"Good call."

Prompto turned to leave – and then stumbled, unable to move an inch.

"Come on, man," I said. "What are you waiting for?"

The Catoblepas's growling grew even louder. Its head turned toward us and its neck began to extend.

"Shit!" said Prompto. "My foot is stuck, dude!"

"Quit screwing around, Prompto! We have to get out of here!"

By now the growls had given way to loud, powerful roars.

"I'm _not_ screwing around!" he shouted. "Look at this!"

Sure enough, his left foot was wedged under a small log. I swore under my breath at it and lifted the log off Prompto's foot just enough for him to get out.

Once he was free, we ran like hell. We ran around the lake and back across the field toward the campsite. Fortunately, the Catoblepas was slow to turn around – but once it did, it started lumbering after us, roaring all the way.

"Shit!" Prompto shouted again, turning his head to see the monster giving chase.

"Don't look back!" I yelled. "Just keep running!"

"I think he's gaining on us!"

"Did you bring your gun?" I asked.

"What?"

"Where's your gun?"

"Don't tell me we'll have to fight this bastard!" said Prompto. "There's no way we can take him without the other two!"

As soon as the words left his mouth I looked straight ahead and spotted Ignis and Gladiolus running toward us at a full sprint. "Speak of the devils," I said, and I summoned my falchion.

"Holy shit!" Gladiolus shouted as he flicked his wrist to summon a greatsword. "How the _hell_ did you guys manage to piss off a Catoblepas?"

"We went looking for mushrooms!" said Prompto, whipping out his gun.

" _What?_ "

"It's a long story," I said. "We'll tell you later!"

Then we hastily split up as the Catoblepas swung its heavily armored head at us like a giant club. Prompto was quick to recover and started pelting the beast with as many bullets as his itchy trigger finger could handle. Meanwhile Gladiolus and I charged in and started hacking away at its feet with our swords, making sure to hurry out of the way each time it took a step anywhere. I had an easier time of that thanks to a warp ability I had learned in combat training back home – with the help of a little magic, I can dash from point A to point B faster than the eye can see and the average human legs can run.

The battle raged on like that for quite some time. A few things became quickly apparent as we fought the Catoblepas. Because it was so massive, everything it did – whether swinging its head at us, trying to stomp on us, or simply walking around – was very slow, making it easy to predict and easier to dodge. But its skin was also difficult to damage with our relatively small weaponry; Prompto's gun might as well have been a damned peashooter for all the good it was doing, while all the swordplay from me and Gladiolus must have felt like a series of paper cuts. And we had absolutely no way of knowing how much damage we were actually doing, or how close we were to defeating it. We did notice that the longer we fought it, the slower it seemed to be moving, even slower than usual, and so we figured we must have been getting close to finishing it off.

"How much longer do we have to keep fighting this damn thing?" Gladiolus said as he jabbed his blade into the monster's ankle.

"Just keep him busy while I whip something up for him!" said Ignis. "Not sure if this will work, but if it does, it'll make our lives much easier."

"The Venom Strike?" I called over, slashing at a foot.

"Exactly!" he answered. "If we can't hurt him on the outside, perhaps we can get him from the inside."

I was about to tell Ignis what a brilliant idea this was – and then the Catoblepas kicked at me and sent me tumbling painfully through the grass. I think I heard someone calling my name, but I was so dizzy I could barely make it out. It didn't hit me as badly as it could have, but _my God_ did that hurt.

I lay there in the grass for a minute or two, panting heavily and rolling on my side to see where the monster was looking to attack next. It seemed to think it was finally rid of me and was turning toward Ignis, preparing to swing its big ugly head again.

 _I've had it with this damn thing,_ I thought as I staggered to my feet with a sharp pain in my ribs. I raised my left hand and began charging as big a fireball as I could muster.

"Ignis, hurry up!" shouted Prompto, and he took a couple shots in the general direction of the Catoblepas's eyes. "He's coming at you!"

"Give me a little more time!" Ignis said. "I'm almost done preparing the poison!"

The Catoblepas raised its head and prepared to swing. It was like it somehow _knew_ that Ignis couldn't run away and prepare a poisonous attack at the same time.

"Damn it, Ignis!" Gladiolus yelled. "Move your ass or you're a dead man!"

"I need another ten seconds!"

The monster's head came rushing down.

Gladiolus stabbed it in the ankle again in the vain hope of distracting it. "You don't _have_ ten more seconds!"

"Sure he does!" I said.

And with that, I launched my fire spell at the Catoblepas. The magic moved through the air as if it were fired from a cannon, and it struck the beast right where the shoulder met the neck with a powerful blast. The Catoblepas threw its head straight up in the air, and its agonized screeching carried through the air across the plain.

"Well done, Highness!" said Ignis.

The monster shook its head to regain its bearings after the impact. It looked over at me with narrowed eyes and growled louder than ever, baring its teeth. And it didn't scare me one bit.

"That's what happens when you forget about _me,_ asshole!" I shouted.

"Is that poison ready yet, bro?" Prompto called out. He continued to pepper the monster's huge body with more gunfire, running around it to give himself a wider target range.

"All done!" Ignis answered. "I'm going in!"

He charged at the Catoblepas as quickly as he could and nailed it with a perfectly placed Venom Strike. The monster gave another wounded and angry roar, but this time it stumbled about as the poison began to kick in.

"I think it's working!" said Ignis.

As if on cue, the Catoblepas dropped to its knees, panting heavily. It began to slightly sway to and fro, looking like it was going to topple over on either side.

"Now's our chance!" said Gladiolus. "Finish him!"

We didn't need to be told twice – hell, we were so worn out from this battle that we probably didn't need to hear it once. But just then, as we prepared to move in to slay the beast, there came a loud series of stomps rapidly approaching us. We couldn't see what was making the noise as there were trees blocking our view, but we could hear branches and bushes rustling as whatever it was came rushing through.

"What the hell is _that?_ " asked Prompto.

The answer was quick to arrive in the form of _another_ massive monster. This one was a big purple canine-looking blur with big horns on its head and spikes at the end of its tail. It leapt out from behind the trees and pounced toward the wounded Catoblepas, sinking its claws into its prey's side and knocking it over. The Catoblepas fell towards me so I warped away in the nick of time. I turned around and watched it roll over and kick its attacker through the air into more trees, snapping the trunks like twigs and knocking them over.

"Holy shit!" Prompto shouted. "That's a Behemoth!"

"We've got an opening!" Ignis called. "Let's get the hell out of here!"

"Where are we supposed to go?" said Gladiolus.

"Back to the campsite!" I said, watching the Catoblepas stand up and whack the Behemoth with its armored head. "Come on!"

We hurried back toward the safety of the campsite as quickly as our legs could take us, listening as the noise of the monster fight behind us grew fainter and fainter. Finally, as we got close to the campsite, we took some cover in the bushes to catch our breath and watch the beasts do battle.

"That was a close one," Prompto mumbled. "And we still almost got him. That Behemoth bastard's trying to steal our kill."

"Fine by me," said Ignis. "If we'd taken down the Catoblepas sooner, _we_ could've been the ones facing the Behemoth. And I doubt we would've had enough strength left to beat him."

Then Gladiolus's eyes narrowed and his head tilted with apparent confusion as he noticed something odd. "Hey guys," he asked, "why does the Behemoth keep doing that?"

"Doing what?" I asked.

"Just watch," said Gladiolus. "Every time the Catoblepas is on the Behemoth's right side, the Behemoth doesn't turn his head to look at it. He turns his whole body around. Look – he's doing it again!"

Sure enough, the Catoblepas had tried to sneak up on the banged-up Behemoth from the right side. And the Behemoth quickly turned his body to the _left_ and went around 270 degrees to face his enemy.

"You're right," Ignis said. "That _is_ strange. It's as if he's got a blind spot over there."

Then, all of a sudden, a long and morbid silence fell over us all as the words _blind spot_ hung in the air. It was like we had all come to the same terrible realization at the same time, and none of us wanted to be the one to put it into words. But this little adventure had been my idea, so I accepted that responsibility myself.

"Holy _shit,_ you guys," I whispered. "That's Deadeye."

My voice sounded like the frightened and almost reverent tone I remembered hearing people use in movies when talking about a dreaded adversary. Now that I had finally seen Deadeye in action, I was _not_ looking forward to facing him myself.

"Perhaps all is not lost," said Ignis. "We need only wait for the Catoblepas to kill Deadeye. Then once it leaves, or the poison kills it, or whatever, we go down there and take Deadeye's horn and bring it back to the caravan and Bob's your uncle. We get the 25,000, we get our car back, and we reach Altissia on time without even getting our hands dirty."

"I like the sound of that plan," said Prompto.

Just as these words left Prompto's mouth, Deadeye leapt at the Catoblepas and caught it by the throat. The Catoblepas let out one last awful screech of anguish and then fell limp in the Behemoth's powerful jaws.

"Aaaaaaaand now it's gone out the window," Prompto muttered as we watched Deadeye sling the carcass over his big purple back and limp off into the distance. "Well, at least he's going _away_ from us. So what do we do now?"

"We go back to camp," I said. "We get the rest of our stuff, and we track Deadeye back to his lair before he can lick his wounds."

With that, we emerged from the bushes and made our way back to the campsite. A big white tent stood near the trees, not far from a fire pit with a number of large logs arranged in a circle around it. The rest of our supplies were still right where we'd left them. And the fire, for some reason, was still lit.

"Why is the fire still burning?" Prompto asked.

"We never put it out," Gladiolus said matter-of-factly. "Once we heard the Catoblepas roaring, we assumed – correctly – that you two were in trouble, so we dropped everything and came running."

"Everything?" Prompto repeated with a chuckle. "I hope that doesn't include the map!"

"Don't be ridiculous," said Ignis, reaching into his coat pocket. "I've got it right—"

His voice cut off and his eyes went wide as he realized the map wasn't there.

"Shit," he muttered, frantically checking his pockets, "what the hell did I _do_ with it?"

"Weren't you reading it here before we left?" asked Gladiolus.

"I was," Ignis admitted. "I must have left it here when we went to help the others."

"So where's the map now?" asked Prompto.

"I don't know!" said Ignis. "Just start looking around. It's got to be here somewhere."

We spent the next ten minutes looking all over the campsite. We checked every nook and cranny of our tent, on and around and under all the logs, and even in the bushes behind the tent. And then we double-checked them all for good measure. But the map was still nowhere to be found – until a tiny piece of paper caught my eye with the words "MAP OF DUSCAE" written in the corner.

"Found the map," I muttered, pointing into the fire pit at the badly burned paper. Ignis's eyes followed my finger into the fire, and he hollered "SHIT" and began storming around the campsite, mumbling and cursing to himself.

"How the hell did the map fall into the fire?" said Prompto.

"Must have been the wind," Gladiolus replied. "One very unfortunate gust of wind."

"Hey, we're not screwed yet," I said. "Does your phone still have any battery life, Gladio?"

He pulled out his phone and tried multiple times to turn it on, but to no avail. "The damn thing's dead," he muttered, running his free hand through his hair. "I must have forgotten to charge it yesterday. And yours is still at the caravan, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I said, and I put my hands on my hips and sighed in frustration.

"Man," said Prompto, "we sure are playing hot potato with the idiot ball, aren't we?"

"It would seem that way," I said. "So now I guess we _are_ screwed."

"Not just yet," said Ignis, having finished his fuming. "We can still navigate the way the pioneers did before us. We can use the stars, learn the lay of the land."

Prompto looked up toward the sky and started shaking his head. "Kind of hard to use the stars in broad daylight, Ignis," he said.

"The sun is a goddamn star too, Prompto," Ignis said irritably. "It rises in the east and sets in the west. All we have to do is check the time and the position of the sun in the sky and we can figure out the rest from there." He rolled up a sleeve to check his watch. "Let's see," he went on, "it's 9:36 in the morning." He looked around on the ground for his shadow and found it behind him and to his left. "Okay… this means the sun must have risen over the lake _,_ " he said, pointing toward where Prompto and I had gone mushroom hunting. Then he adjusted his position so that he was directly facing the lake. "North," he said, pointing to his left. "South," he said, pointing to his right. "East," he said, and pointed straight ahead toward the lake. "And west," he finished, pointing his thumb behind him.

"That's great," I said. "But which way is the caravan?"

Ignis dropped exasperatedly onto the nearest log and sighed. "I have no idea," he said.

"More bad news, you guys," said Prompto, who'd been checking his pockets while Ignis was navigating. "I think I lost those damn mushrooms."

* * *

Hours went by without a single trace of Deadeye's lair, but we certainly weren't about to give up anytime soon – not when we still had a good lead on him. Gladiolus had noticed that the Catoblepas Deadeye had killed had dripped blood from its wounds all over the grass, leaving an all-too-convenient trail behind for us to follow. We checked the blood trail every once in a while to see if there were any wet spots, which would have signified that the half-blind Behemoth was somewhere close by, but the red spots on the ground were always dry. I also couldn't help but notice that the drops were getting increasingly far apart, presumably because the bleeding had stopped unless Deadeye had somehow repositioned his prey on his back in such a way that would slow down the dripping. Meanwhile Prompto was growing increasingly frustrated at our lack of progress and kept mumbling about how he "should've stayed at the damn caravan," though that last one stopped after Ignis responded by telling him that perhaps he was right.

This campsite was in a considerably more open space than our previous spot, with only a few trees around. There was a picnic table near the fire pit and a dirt trail cutting through the field, though much to our chagrin there weren't any maps available. Still, it seemed to be a safe enough spot for Gladio and I to set up his tent while Ignis prepared a simple stew out of some food we'd stocked up on at the convenience store and Prompto complained about his aching legs and feet. There weren't any logs around the fire pit this time, so we unfolded some small lawn chairs and sat around the fire to relax after a long day of mostly fruitless Behemoth hunting. Once we finished our dinner, the others drew straws to determine who was keeping watch and when.

"First watch?" Prompto complained. "Aw, man! Can't I switch with Gladio? I only got, like, four hours of sleep last night, and then we had to wander through half of Duscae all day. This is just the worst."

"Oh, spare us the bellyaching," said Ignis. "The middle watch is no picnic either."

"And why doesn't Noctis have to keep watch?" Prompto continued, ignoring the counter argument. "You mean even when he _isn't_ trying to pull rank, he can still pull rank?"

"Pretty much," Gladiolus mumbled. "He's more valuable than we are, whether we like it or not." He sipped on some water and sighed. "Gotta love monarchy."

"Well, what am I supposed to do about that?" I asked. "You want me to abdicate?"

"No, it's not that," he said, waving his hand about, "it's just… well… I don't know… forget I said anything. I'm fine. Just stressed out over not catching Deadeye yet, I guess."

I looked him over with confusion and some concern, but eventually shrugged and said, "Okay, whatever."

"How are we even _supposed_ to beat Deadeye?" asked Prompto. "I mean, you guys saw what he did to that Catoblepas, right? We were fighting that thing for, like, half an hour, and then _this_ bastard shows up out of nowhere and takes him out in five minutes." He slouched in his chair and folded his arms. "I guess it's too late to turn back now though, huh?"

Ignis rolled his eyes. "It's _been_ too late to turn back for a long time, Prompto," he said. "Please try to keep up, would you?"

Prompto glanced over at Ignis with equal amounts of irritation. "Look everyone, it's another snide remark from the reigning king of the art," he said. "What is your _deal,_ dude? You've been acting really pissy towards me lately. And it's not just today. It's like every time I open my mouth, you pounce at the first chance you get to put me down."

"Guys, can we not do this right now?" I asked, rubbing my temples. "It's been a long day for all of us, and—"

"I'm being pissy?" Ignis retorted with a chuckle. "This coming from someone who's been whining about every little thing all the livelong bloody day." He started mimicking Prompto's high-pitched, somewhat nasally tone of voice. "'Oh, my legs are killing me!' 'Why haven't we found Deadeye yet?' 'Why didn't I stay at the caravan?'" He stopped imitating Prompto and took off his glasses to rub his eyes. "I'm so sick of hearing you complain that I'm on the verge of reporting you to the damn police for whatever the hell you did that's got you on the lam. They can take you away and I won't have to hear you anymore."

As soon as the word _police_ left Ignis's mouth, I knew this conversation was not going to lead anywhere positive. There had to be something I could do to break it up. Maybe I could come up with some kind of fib about seeing something hiding in the bushes and bracing to jump out at us – _no, no, no,_ I mentally interrupted myself, _that's a terrible idea._ After all, as the future king of Lucis, I'm expected to be a master of conflict resolution; lord knows I've had plenty of practice around these guys, who always look to me as the deciding vote in every dispute. It's not such a big deal when we can't decide where to have dinner or which movie to watch, but this was huge – and my first instinct was to try kicking the can a little farther down the road. But how much longer could I keep doing that? And how was I supposed to cast my vote now, when the argument caught me off guard and I still didn't know where I stood?

"Oh my _God,_ Ignis," muttered Prompto, shaking his head, "you and this whole _fugitive_ thing…"

"You're right, I'm being _completely_ unreasonable," said Ignis. "It's only an international manhunt that's gone on for nearly a year. Clearly it's nothing worth losing precious sleep over."

"Seriously guys, knock it off," Gladiolus mumbled half-heartedly. It fell on deaf ears, so he got up to rummage through a bag of snacks at the picnic table while the argument continued.

"Dude, they're _never_ gonna catch me," Prompto assured Ignis.

"Really?" said Ignis. "If you're so confident, then why did you come crawling to Noctis asking for some place to lay low?"

"You think I didn't notice all those news articles about how the investigators were supposedly 'getting closer'?"

"You don't strike me as the sort who would care."

"Well, guess what?" said Prompto. "I saw the articles, and I _panicked,_ so I came to the one guy in the world that I knew had enough clout to lend me a hand." He started scratching the back of his head. "Of course, it didn't occur to me until later that they never could have caught me anyway."

"And what makes you say that?"

"They have no idea who I am, Ignis. All they have is an alias I was using."

"Are you _sure_ about that?"

"Why the hell shouldn't I be?" Prompto asked. "I'm not stupid. I took every precaution I could think of. I wore gloves so they couldn't trace my fingerprints. I disguised my voice so nobody could recognize me in casual conversation. I wore a mask and generic clothes so nobody would know what I looked like. I armed myself with the most easily attainable guns in countries that are nowhere _near_ as strict about them as Lucis is. And I—"

"Hold it, hold it," Ignis interrupted, raising his hand.

A brief but painfully awkward silence filled the air as he glanced over at Prompto with suspicious eyes, leaning forward and stroking his chin as the gears in his brain processed the words. Prompto didn't seem very concerned with this, but an eerie chill ran down my spine and my heart started pounding. Meanwhile Gladiolus returned to his seat with only a pack of matches in his hand, having failed to find the snack he wanted in that bag, and eyed us all with genuine confusion. He tossed a lit match into the fire pit as the sky grew dark. Ignis's eyes widened a bit and his hand balled up into a fist as he arrived at his conclusion.

"What was that part about wearing a mask?" he asked.

"You seriously think I was dumb enough to let everyone see my face when I did what I did?" Prompto retorted.

"No. But you're _clearly_ dumb enough to give yourself away."

"What are you talking about?"

"There's only one masked man in the world attracting international attention right now, Prompto," Ignis said coldly, folding his arms and looking across the fire pit at Prompto with sheer disgust. "Or should I say _Quicksilver?_ "

Prompto said nothing. He looked away from Ignis, breathing deeply to settle himself, massaging his forehead as if that would help him think of some way to reply. But thanks to his hesitation, his inability to deny or even counter the accusation, he had no need to say anything at all. And Ignis began to shake his head, disappointed in the knowledge that he was right.

"Wait a second," said Gladiolus, dropping another match into the fire pit. "You mean to tell me _this_ goofball was secretly the most notorious cat burglar in the world this whole time? _He's_ the guy who's been robbing all those rich people?"

They weren't just _any_ rich people though. Quicksilver's targets had exclusively been bankers and high-ranking corporate executives, people whose actions caused an economic collapse in Solheim a few years ago. The only thing that prevented a total meltdown was the government stepping in and giving the banks enough money to stay in business. Meanwhile, too many people to count had lost jobs and homes with little to no hope of recovery and no federal funding coming their way to save the day. So Quicksilver would break into the homes of those bankers and executives, pilfer the most expensive valuables he could carry, and then sell them on the black market. Only a small portion of the money he made from those sales went into his own pockets; he donated the rest anonymously to charities and homeless shelters. He first gained attention when he logged into Chirper from what turned out to be a library computer and posted the following message, directed at his first target and any major news outlet that covered the story: "THIS IS NOT THIEVERY. THIS IS REPOSSESSION." He'd given himself the Quicksilver moniker, and it stuck in all the news reports because nobody else knew what else to call him.

In retrospect, perhaps Prompto's secret identity should have been exposed sooner. His family had moved to Solheim months before the collapse while he was still attending school in Lucis, and they were hit _hard_ by the economic downturn. And Quicksilver had mysteriously vanished – "retired from crime," as some reporters jokingly put it – around the time Prompto returned to Insomnia and asked me for help.

"Well, the cat's out of the bag now," Prompto mumbled, "so to speak."

"Man, I've really underestimated you," said Gladiolus, laughing softly and grinning at Prompto. "That's actually kind of badass."

"No it isn't," said Ignis, "it's actually kind of _illegal._ "

And then the moment I'd been dreading all along came to pass: he turned toward _me_ looking for some kind of reassurance.

"So what do _you_ make of all this, Highness?" he asked. "You've been conspicuously quiet."

 _Time's up, Your Majesty,_ I thought. _You've delayed the inevitable long enough._

"What do you mean?" I asked, trying to keep calm as much as I could. "What am I _supposed_ to make of all this?"

 _Wrong answer._

"What do I _mean?_ " Ignis repeated incredulously. "Are you serious? I thought you might at least be _somewhat_ taken aback by this." He started to lean back in his chair, shaking his head again, when he stopped – and his eyes went wide again with another realization. "Unless…"

"Unless what?"

Gladiolus, who was quietly watching everything unfold, poked at the fledgling campfire with a stick to help it grow.

Ignis simply sat there for a moment, resting his head on his hand with his elbow on the chair's arm and looking at me with his mouth slightly agape. I knew what he was about to say. I didn't want to hear it. And I could tell he didn't want to say it either. But he had to. It was, after all, part of his job to say it – and part of _my_ job to listen.

"Oh, dear God," he muttered in a defeated monotone. "You already knew."

So just like that, I had become the one being cornered with no idea how to get myself out of it. But as I sat in silence, racking my brain for _something_ I could tell Ignis, it suddenly dawned on me that there was nothing I could do, and nothing I could say. And this was because, for the first time, I finally understood that we'd reached this point because I had deluded myself into thinking I hadn't yet decided what to do about this. As I considered Ignis's perspective, I realized I had in fact already made that choice a long time ago. I made that choice the minute Prompto came to Insomnia and confided in me about his double life _and I kept my mouth shut._ It was something a man in my position, being a heartbeat away from wearing the country's crown, could not – and _should not_ – do. Had Prompto been a stranger, I doubt I would have been so brash. But now I had dug myself into such a deep hole that I couldn't bear the thought of getting myself back out, because the only way out was—

"You know what?" said Ignis, snapping me out of my contemplative state. "Don't even respond to that. Your silence is speaking volumes."

I felt a rush of hot air as a small breeze blew the warmth of the campfire into my face. I glanced over at Prompto looking for some kind of signal. All he did was shrug his shoulders.

"Yeah, I _did_ know," I finally admitted. "He told me everything when he first came back to Insomnia."

Ignis buried his face in both of his palms to muffle a loud groan. He rocked backward and then forward again, coming down with his elbows on his knees and tilting his head back as he let his hands drop.

"So what am I supposed to do?" I asked.

"Pray that there's no recording or documentation that can prove you knew about this!" he barked. "At least _that_ way you could still have plausible deniability!"

"See, this is why I didn't want _you_ finding out, Ignis," Prompto cut in. "I _knew_ you were gonna throw a goddamn tantrum."

Gladiolus gave the kindling one more well-placed poke, and finally the bulk of it was set ablaze. Satisfied with his work, he chucked the stick into the campfire too.

"You think _this_ is a tantrum?" Ignis snarled. "I'll show you a bloody tantrum."

"Damn," Gladiolus mumbled, "I should have brought some popcorn."

"Noctis," Ignis said, keeping his eyes locked on Prompto as he rose from his seat, "do you remember what I said yesterday about putting your foot down? Watch and learn."

"What the hell is he talking about?" Prompto asked, looking over at me in confusion.

"I'm talking about _you,_ idiot," said Ignis, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "You and your secret life of crime, which will be _such_ a huge mess for us to clean up that I don't even want to _think_ about it right now. And on top of all that, we wouldn't be in _this_ mess if _you_ hadn't gone drag racing against the bloody Invisible Man and blown the engine in a car that isn't even yours!"

"Oh yeah?" Prompto shot back, standing up to stare Ignis down as he walked past me around the fire pit. "Who let Noctis toss a coin to decide who would drive in the first place, _Ignis?_ Who brought a dead cell phone and left the charger cord at home, _Ignis?_ Who left our only map at the campsite so it could blow into the fire, _Ignis?_ Pretty sure that wasn't me! But I guess I forgot that _you're_ a perfectly innocent little angel, and _nothing_ is ever _your_ fault. All of your misery can always be traced directly back to me!"

Ignis followed Prompto away from the fire pit and into the field. I exchanged a look with Gladiolus from the other side of the fire, and we both followed them in case things started getting even uglier.

"I'm Noctis's chief advisor, damn it!" Ignis shouted. "Whenever you make _him_ look bad, you make _me_ look even worse! Do you have _any idea_ how much trouble you could get Noctis in for harboring a fugitive? Or how much damage you could do to his reputation every time you drag him off to some sleazy nightclub? Every minute you spend with him, you compromise his integrity and cloud his judgment. And worst of all, you don't even give a shit!"

He started clenching his fists, so I motioned for Gladiolus to go over to him and stay close. I went toward Prompto in turn. I felt like I should say something to calm them down, but I didn't know what I could do. I had never seen things get this heated between them.

"Oh, God forbid the guy should help a friend in need and have a little fun once in a while!" countered Prompto. "You used to be cool, man. We've had a lot of really good times together. Now you go around trying to act like you're my goddamn dad. What the hell happened to you?"

"I grew up!" hollered Ignis. " _That's_ what happened to me! Unfortunately, I'm still waiting for _you_ to do the same!"

"Hey, I'd love to be just as _mature_ and _responsible_ as you, Ignis!" Prompto yelled. "Too bad I can't find a big enough _stick_ to shove up my ass!"

"That's it," said Ignis, his voice now lowered to a menacing growl, and he began pointing violently at Prompto. "One more word from your mouth, and I swear to God I will knock every tooth out of it."

"I'd love to see you _try,_ " Prompto snarled, and he took a few slow but threatening steps toward Ignis.

Ignis said nothing, but I could tell from the quicker pace of his walk that he was up to the challenge. I swore under my breath.

"All right, that's enough!" Gladiolus shouted as he rushed to Ignis and threw his arms around him. "Both of you!"

Meanwhile I hurried toward Prompto and cut off his path, putting a hand on his chest to try and keep him back. His eyes stayed fixed on Ignis, as if I wasn't even there, but I blocked him every time he tried to get around me. He didn't seem to be trying very hard to go after Ignis, which was about as much of a relief as I could have hoped for. Gladiolus seemed to have his hands full though, or at least he did whenever I turned my head around to take a quick look. Ignis kept trying to pull him along as he made his approach, but Gladio stood his ground and pulled him back. So then Ignis attempted to pry those restrictive arms away from his midsection, but Gladio was just too strong – much stronger than Ignis, whose tall and lean frame was no match for a tank like Gladio. It still didn't do much to dissuade Ignis; his anger and frustration had finally reached critical mass, and he simply was not giving up.

"Let go of me, Gladio!" he shouted, twisting around and giving Gladiolus a weak shove from an awkward angle.

"You sure you want him to do that?" called Prompto, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "I'm a dangerous international fugitive, remember?"

"I said that's _enough!_ " Gladiolus bellowed, and he gave Ignis another forceful tug backwards.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" Prompto shouted at Ignis, throwing his arms out in exasperation, and I could see his furious scowl growing increasingly morose as I pulled him away. "We're supposed to be _friends,_ dude!"

By now Ignis had given up on attacking Prompto with his fists, having been thoroughly restrained by my exquisitely-trained bodyguard. His body was running out of fuel, and he stood there panting heavily. He was held in check by Gladio, his glasses having dropped to the ground in the struggle. But his anger still had not faded, and his narrowed glaring eyes indicated that he was still very much in attack mode.

And he realized that he could still use words as weapons.

"Friends?" Ignis repeated bitterly. "Prompto, the only reason I still _tolerate_ you is because the other two haven't grown sick of your nonsense yet!"

It took a few seconds for that to sink in, but once it did, Prompto went completely still. His arms fell limp to his sides and he glanced down at his feet. I loosened my grip on him a bit, but he swatted my hands away once he sensed their presence again. And I let him go. I did it because I realized that all the fight had gone right out of him. It felt as if his aggression had simply evaporated into the air. His expression was slightly angered, but mostly disappointed, and I knew I had seen that look before. I remembered it from seeing him getting rejected by girls he liked at the bars in town, or watching them get all star-struck over me. I remembered it from the day he told us about his family moving to Solheim and how much he would miss Insomnia and hated breaking up the Big Four. And I remembered it from the day he took me aside to confess to being Quicksilver, how he said he felt he had nowhere else to turn, and how much the prospect of prison utterly terrified him. It was the look of a beaten man, a man who hated the situation he found himself in but felt helpless and powerless to do anything about it.

The look was only there for a brief moment, and it disappeared once he hardened himself with a disdainful scowl for the royal advisor who'd lashed out at him, but I didn't miss it. And as I glanced over at Ignis, I sensed that he didn't miss it either.

"You _tolerate_ me?" Prompto muttered, and he started shaking his head. "Go _fuck_ yourself, Ignis."

And with that, he turned on his heel and stormed off toward the trees.

None of us had any idea what to do. I called after him, but he ignored me and kept moving forward. Gladiolus stayed silent, moving only to ease his grip on Ignis. And Ignis tilted his head down toward the spot where his glasses had fallen, but wasn't really focused on anything. He just stared into space like a shell-shocked veteran, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open and his hands on his hips, as if mentally asking himself: _what the hell did I just do?_

Finally Ignis bent to retrieve his glasses and wiped them off. "I'm sorry," he mumbled to nobody in particular. "I don't know what came over me. That got completely out of hand."

"It _was_ a tad unprofessional," Gladiolus said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Quite," Ignis said blankly.

He took one last look in Prompto's general direction and saw nothing but trees and bushes. Then he walked back to his seat at the campfire and slumped into his chair. Gladiolus and I followed suit soon after.

We barely spoke for the rest of the night. I didn't see Prompto again until the next morning.

* * *

 _If I get old, I will not give in._

 _But if I do, remind me of this:_

 _Remind me that once I was free,_

 _Once I was cool,_

 _Once I was me._

\- Radiohead, "A Reminder"

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Drama bomb status: DROPPED.

Believe it or not, this story began as a series of loosely connected "scenes from a road trip" one-shots. It was inspired by that meme where people Photoshopped funny things for the guys to look at while driving by in the Regalia (Square Enix themselves supplied a template with the party looking out toward a blank white backdrop). Then I read up on the characters and learned about Prompto's status as a man on the lam, and things began to change. (What's that thing TV Tropes calls it? Cerebus Syndrome? I keep wanting to call it Cerberus Syndrome for some reason.) Once I decided to make Prompto's past a major source of conflict, the next step was figuring out what to do with him. Then I remembered how _Final Fantasy_ has a penchant for "heroic thief" characters like Locke (yeah, yeah, I know: "treasure hunter"), Zidane, Rikku, and Balthier. And then I remembered that recurring _FFXV_ tagline about "a fantasy based on reality" and, well… I ran with it from there. Prompto's alias was much easier to think up once I learned that "Prompto Argentum" is a _very_ loose Latin translation of "quick silver."

One last thing: the title of this chapter comes from "Sweet Song" by Blur. It's about the lead guitarist leaving the band.

To be continued… as soon as Chapter 4 is done, whenever that is.


	4. Tell My Mother I'm Sorry

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own _Final Fantasy XV_ , its characters, or any other intellectual property belonging to Square Enix. Nor do I own any other pieces of pop culture that I reference here.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** "I should leave it alone, but you're not right. I should live in salt for leaving you behind."

* * *

 **4** _and if i never come back, tell my mother i'm sorry_

* * *

The good news about our next day in the Duscae forest was that the weather had finally cooled off. There was to be no more trudging through the plains in search of dried Catoblepas blood on the grass in sweltering heat, much to our great relief. After the showdown between Ignis and Prompto the night before, the fruitless hunt and scorching sunlight could only have made our already-damaged collective mood even worse. It still made for an exceedingly awkward couple hours of tracking, as we kept our words to a minimum for fear of re-igniting the powder keg and only talked about the task at hand. Prompto in particular had been eerily quiet, opening his mouth only to say "yes," "no," or "whatever." The sole exception was when Ignis attempted to strike up a conversation with him, hopefully to apologize for losing his temper, but Prompto wasted no time showing he still wasn't willing to talk things out.

"Prompto," Ignis had said, "I was hoping perhaps I could pull you aside so we could chat one-on-one for a few minutes."

"Oh, hi Ignis," retorted Prompto with a sneer. "Are you ready to start tolerating me again?"

Ignis glared back at him, but this time kept his cool. "Never mind," he said. "Once you're ready to stop casting me as the villain, please let me know."

"Don't start this shit again, guys," I warned. "At least not until after we're back in civilization, okay? You can sort out whatever you have to later. But right now, if we can't work together, then we'll never be able to take down Deadeye. So knock it off."

"Whatever," Prompto mumbled. "Let's just get this over with."

And now for the bad news: clouds had started to gather in the sky, and they looked increasingly ominous as the day wore on. That was all we needed – for the rain to start pouring down and washing away the one trail we were able to really follow. Catoblepas blood was a very distinctive shade of red, so unless we stumbled across any Behemoth tracks along the way, this was the only thing that could guide us to Deadeye's lair.

Fortunately, the rain held off long enough for us to make our way to a fittingly intimidating possible abode for a dreaded Behemoth. It was an exceptionally gloomy section of the forest, one that seemed darker than everywhere else we'd been because of all the densely wooded areas casting enormous shadows for us to sneak through. The bloody trail led us into a narrow crevasse surrounded on both sides by tall cliffs we couldn't climb. If anything had wanted to attack us, we would have nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. It didn't help matters that the place was shrouded in a strange fog that we didn't see anywhere else in Duscae.

"I think I read about this place in that travel guide," Prompto said as we made our way up a rather steep hill. "This must be Mistwood."

"Huh," said Gladiolus. "I wonder where they got the name."

Aside from that (and also a growing number of flies buzzing about), there weren't many sounds to be heard in Mistwood. The air was very still and kind of chilly, though it was admittedly a nice change of pace from the heat of the past few days. The only beasts we encountered there were a pack of about six Sabertusks. They were small but nimble wolf-like creatures who took their name from the long and sharp tusks that protruded from their faces. We made quick work of them without having to use any techniques more advanced than my basic warp strike.

So here's a quick rundown of how useful our five senses proved to be in Mistwood. Thanks to the fog – or Mist, I suppose, considering the name of the place – we could barely see a hundred feet in front of us. It was deathly quiet in the area and there was little to nothing for us to interact with. We had plenty of food with us, so there was no need to hunt anything other than Deadeye. As for the smell of the place… come to think of it, there _was_ a rather pungent stink floating around in the air. I'd been noticing it for a while, but I didn't point it out to the others until we'd stopped for a short break, though it didn't seem to bother anyone else.

"Hey guys," I said, "does anyone else smell that?"

"Smell what, exactly?" asked Ignis.

"I don't know what it is. All I know is that something around here smells pretty awful, and the longer we follow this path, the worse it gets."

"I'm picking it up too," said Gladiolus. He took a couple deep breaths through his nose, hoping he could identify the stench, and immediately recoiled at it. "Good _lord,_ that is disgusting."

"Hey," Prompto said, pointing up at the sky, "what's up with those birds?"

We all followed Prompto's line of sight up through the trees toward what appeared to be some sort of clearing in the distance. I could make out two large birds, maybe three, very deliberately flying in a circle over the clearing. They looked as if they were waiting for the opportunity to swoop down.

"They're vultures," Gladiolus muttered. "Well, at least now I know what that smell is. It's rotting meat."

"Seems like an inconvenient location for a slaughterhouse," said Ignis.

"No," said Gladiolus, missing the attempt at humor, "it's just some dead animal lying around out in the open. And if we can smell it from here, then whatever it is, it must be something _big._ "

"Could it be Deadeye?" Prompto offered hopefully.

"Ha!" Gladiolus replied. "We should be so lucky."

From there the foggy path weaved its curvy way through the woods and over small hills until we reached an unusual not-quite-dead end. The rocky cliffs gave way to what looked like man-made walls of stone blocks covered in vines and littered with corroded aluminum roofing panels. There, right in the corner, was a square tunnel that we would have to crouch to pass through. As we reached the tunnel, I looked around and found the positioning of the aluminum panels rather curious. The panels didn't appear to have been somehow removed from the walls. Instead they were arranged in neat stacks leaning against the walls, looking as if they had never been used. I couldn't tell what the structure was supposed to be – perhaps a military bunker or trench used in some long-ago armed conflict, or more likely just a man-made path granting easier passage through what was once completely closed off.

I was the first of our party to approach the tunnel, but Gladiolus stepped in front of me and held out an arm to block my path. "I'll go first," he said. "You guys wait for my signal."

"Gladio," I said, "I'm sure I can handle whatever's on the other side. We broke more of a sweat walking here than we did fighting the local wildlife."

"It doesn't matter what's on the other side, _Your Majesty_. You're not coming through here until I give you the green light."

He was clearly in no mood to argue, so I stood back and let him sneak through the tunnel. It wasn't a very long way – I'd say maybe thirty or forty feet at most – but Gladio took it slow to keep anything on the other side from being alerted. I could tell he'd reached the end when he stayed in place for a moment, looking all around in search of any possible enemies. Finally he gestured toward the rest of us, and we followed him through the tunnel.

The tunnel brought us to a walled-off path that was only partially covered overhead with more aluminum roofing panels. Through the gaps in the roofing we could see a downhill slope with more trees and thicker fog, and—

 _THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP._

The sound of imposing footsteps filled the air, and Gladio raised a hand to signal us to stop. We all pressed our backs against the outer wall so whatever was coming couldn't see us. But as the footsteps came closer, we began to see the gigantic horned purple beast that was the source.

It was Deadeye. He stomped toward our hiding spot and peeked in through a gap in the roof, and I could see his blind right eye twitching to and fro – better to focus on that than those fangs the length of my forearm. Once he was satisfied that nothing was hiding in that tunnel, he turned away. We immediately started hearing a loud chomping noise from the other side of the wall, and Gladiolus took the opportunity to try passing the gap.

The timing of his attempt didn't sit well with me, so I reached over and grabbed his arm. "Red light," I whispered.

"For you," Gladio retorted sternly, and he jerked his arm free and began to sneak along the wall to the next covered section.

As soon as Gladio made it under the next patch of roofing we heard a powerful roar, and the Behemoth jerked his head toward our position, snarling and baring his teeth. I looked back and saw Ignis pressing his back against the wall, showing no outward signs of fear except for a few nervous sweat drops tricking down his cheek. Prompto was visibly shaking and panting heavily, his eyes wide open and staring into space toward the bottom of the opposite wall. But out of all four of us, the one who was most afraid in that moment was probably _me._ I'm better at hiding such things than people like Prompto, but that doesn't mean the fear isn't there.

Then Deadeye tried to shove his head in through the gap, and my blood ran ice cold as I lost sight of Gladiolus.

The Behemoth's muzzle was so big he couldn't see inside, but that didn't make us feel much better. His fangs were even bigger than I'd initially thought once I saw them up close – if I held one upright beside me it might have come as high as my navel. His breath shot angrily from his mouth and nostrils, bouncing off the walls and flowing through the tunnel, and it was hot as hell and reeked of eaten meat and unhygienic teeth. He pulled out a bit and tried to force his muzzle back in a little deeper, but could not. He tried _again,_ more forcefully than before – same result. Then he tried once more – and once more he couldn't fit inside. He pulled back out, roared again in frustration, and stormed off, and we all thanked our lucky stars that he didn't try to tear down the wall.

I could see Gladiolus on the other side of the gap, and I felt a huge surge of relief. He looked over the wall and waved for us to follow again, and we didn't need to be told twice. We hurried past the gap and through the next section of tunnel, one that was about the size and shape of a doorway, and came out into an open field with a stone wall blocking our view of where Deadeye had been.

"Well, I for one am _so_ glad that's over," Ignis muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"I for one am glad my pants are still dry," said Prompto.

I chuckled at his remark while Ignis sarcastically thanked him for sharing that (Prompto ignored this reply). Then I turned my head and spotted Gladiolus climbing the wall. It wasn't particularly tall, so he was able to reach the top quickly. For a moment I worried that he might try to pull himself over – and then he lifted his head over the ledge and glanced around for about twenty seconds or so before climbing back down. I guess he figured he could get a better look from there than from inside the tunnel.

"Looks like he's definitely gone," Gladiolus announced.

"Did you see which way he went?" asked Prompto.

"When I saw him from inside the tunnel, it looked like he went _that_ way," he answered, turning and pointing back a little to the left of the general direction from which we came. "We'll just have to keep tracking him from there."

"Did you find anything else up there?" asked Ignis.

"You guys remember that Catoblepas we met yesterday?" said Gladiolus. "I just found him. It wasn't a pretty sight – well, not that a half-eaten animal carcass ever _is._ "

"I suppose that must be the real reason why Deadeye doesn't eat people," said Ignis. "They simply don't make much of a meal."

In that moment I actually felt a pang of sympathy for that Catoblepas, even though we'd fought him the day before and he proved to be a very formidable opponent. Less than twenty-four hours ago, all that creature really wanted to do was drink some water out of a lake and otherwise mind its own business. Now it was nothing more than a Behemoth's leftovers. And it was all because of two puny little humans wandering around looking for mushrooms. Maybe Deadeye would have found him eventually anyway, but if we hadn't weakened him first he might have been able to put up more of a fight.

"Well," Gladio continued, "let's just hope we don't have any more close calls like that."

He turned and started to follow the path down a hill, an air of apparent nonchalance carrying his every step. The others were briefly hesitant to follow him so quickly after our close encounter with Deadeye, but they soon started down the hill too. Yet there I stood, rooted to the spot as if I'd sprung from a seed planted there, baffled by how quickly my bodyguard had been able to recover from such a—

"Close call?" I found myself repeating. "Is that really all you have to say? For God's sake, Gladio, another few inches and he would've had you for dessert!"

Gladiolus stopped and stood still for a moment, as if contemplating how to reply. Then he turned around and looked up the hill at me with a solemn look in his eye.

"Another few inches the _other_ way, and he would've had _you,_ " he said. "But he didn't get either of us, so count your blessings and move on."

But I couldn't simply move on. I just stood there, shaking my head, trying to figure out what to say next.

"Dude, are you okay?" asked Prompto.

"No, I'm not," I said. "I'm pretty goddamn scared. I've never been that close to getting killed, or watching any of you guys get killed, all right? I don't know, maybe this was a—"

"Don't finish that sentence," Gladiolus interrupted. "This was _your_ idea, Noctis. Don't tell me you're getting cold feet now. Not when we're this close to getting the bastard."

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Deep breath in…

"I'm not turning back," I finally said. "I guess I was just… shaken up by all that, you know? I didn't think we'd be getting back to the grind so quickly."

Gladiolus put his hands on his hips and shook his head, staring up at me with a growing smirk. "That _was_ some pretty freaky shit," he said. "But you don't have anything to worry about. Everything's fine."

 _Fine_ – that word was one of Gladio's favorite ways to deal with things, and was quickly becoming one of my most hated words in the language. _Fine_ doesn't tell you shit. _Fine_ is just a more polite way of saying "whatever." _Fine_ is the kind of thing people say when they've convinced themselves their problems and their experiences and their feelings would only be a burden on anyone they share them with. It's the kind of thing a guy might say after some drunk asshole tries picking a fight with you in the middle of the street late at night on your way home from the movies, and he takes a dagger to the gut that was meant for you, and he ends up in the hospital getting stitched up by surgeons who also want to check for any possible damage to his internal organs. And it's the kind of thing that guy would definitely say when the stitches are gone but the scar still lingers, and you ask him if it still hurts him at all, and you ask him if that scar will ever go away, and it still bothers you every time you look at that scar no matter how many times he tells you everything is _fine_ because he never wears a goddamn shirt to hide it from you or anyone else, as if he considers it some macho badge of honor.

"Come on, Noct," said Gladiolus. "I think Deadeye's long overdue to have the fear of God put into him."

I took another deep breath and determined my nerves were sufficiently settled. Then I nodded my head, said "Okay," and followed my friends down the hill.

* * *

We spent the next hour or so tracking Deadeye through the forest, courtesy of some conveniently placed footprints not far from the remains of the Catoblepas. The trail took us through a region of Mistwood where the fog was incredibly thick, even more so than before, and it lent an increasingly ominous aura to the place. Ignis picked up on it too and joked that we must have been getting close to Deadeye's lair – and within minutes of that remark, we spotted the big purple beast trudging along, unknowingly luring us straight to his safe haven.

"Is it just me," Gladiolus whispered at one point, "or is there something _off_ about him?"

"What do you mean?" asked Prompto.

"Look at the way he moves," said Gladio. "He isn't walking with the same power he had when we saw him before."

"Probably still a little banged up from that fight yesterday," I suggested.

"Yeah, you're probably right," said Gladio, and we didn't speak of it again.

The Behemoth led us to a ruined building in an open lot blocked off from the blinding fog by a big cliff. Some of the mist still trickled through the skinny crack in the cliff that we had squeezed through to reach the place, but beyond that things were surprisingly clear. Concrete walls reached for the sky with no ceiling to restrict them, and the windows were filled with thick metal bars that made the place look something like a prison. Huge stone blocks were arranged in piles scattered throughout the construction site, one of which we crouched behind for cover as we began to discuss our plan of attack. The site was surrounded by tall watchtowers, and there were steel structures and ladders along the walls that were presumably there to help the construction crew climb to the unfinished second story. A large fuel tank stood in a faraway corner, painted a glaring fire engine red that made it stick out like a sore thumb amid the drab beige walls and the natural browns and greens. And at the end of one wall, perhaps doing more than anything else to betray the ruin's true age, was a fuse box.

I wasn't entirely certain what all of this was, or why it was here, or who had been building it. But even though it was in such obvious disrepair, one that looked like no maintenance work had been done in decades, this was no historical ruin, no once-proud ancient marvel reduced to a crumbling eyesore after years without use or inhabitation. Instead it looked like the foundation of what was intended as a prominent modern-looking architectural landmark that had never been finished in the first place. Perhaps the project had simply run out of funding and the construction company was forced to cancel it. But I had a sinking feeling that this wasn't the case; otherwise the builders would never have left so many unused materials behind. Someone – or _something_ – must have disrupted the construction, possibly some kind of attacker that led to the company abandoning an incomplete building without going out there to retrieve anything. And it didn't take long for me to jump to a conclusion of that attacker's identity – that presumed guilty party was asleep on the other side of the building.

"All right, I have an idea," Ignis murmured. "It may not be perfect, but this is all I've got. One of us goes over there to get Deadeye's attention. Once he gives chase, we lure him toward that fuel tank. We then do whatever we can to keep him there for as long as it takes to blow it up, and once he's down we swarm in to finish him off."

"How do we destroy the fuel tank?" asked Gladiolus.

"That's the easy part," Ignis answered, pushing up his glasses to keep them from sliding off his nose. "We have Prompto shoot at it until it explodes. And if that's not enough, someone can cast a fire spell on it to help things along."

"That's the whole plan?"

"That's the plan, unless anyone has any better ideas."

None of us did. The plan sounded reasonable enough, but there was still one difficult question lingering, waiting for someone to ask it. We remained crouched behind that pile of stone blocks as we shared an uncomfortable silence – nobody seemed to want to ask that question. Finally Prompto took a deep breath and said what needed to be said.

"So who's gonna be the bait?" he asked.

Ignis let out a big sigh as the weight of the question now fell on his shoulders.

"That's the hard part," he said. "Obviously it can't be you, because we need you to destroy the fuel tank."

Prompto nodded, looking slightly relieved at his disqualification, but whatever relief he may have felt didn't last long. "You can't do it either," he told Ignis. "As long as you're still wearing those dress shoes, you won't even outrun the other guys, let alone a friggin' Behemoth."

That left me and Gladiolus. One logical option, and one not-so-logical option. I think we all knew which was which, but I could tell that wasn't sitting well with Gladio. And so, before I could say anything, even before I could even reach for my pocket and jokingly suggest a coin toss to settle it, he switched into bodyguard mode and spoke up with the exact words I expected him to say.

"I'll do it."

"No you won't," I said, looking him straight in the eye. " _I'll_ do it."

"Out of the question," said Gladio, shaking his head. "I'm not the one who has to succeed your father. Let me be the bait."

"You're not the one who can do the warp dash either," I countered. "I can handle this."

"He's got a point, Gladio," Ignis muttered.

"And I don't?" my bodyguard retorted. "The Amicitia family has protected the royal bloodline of Lucis for generations. It's basically our entire reason for being. No one in my family has ever failed in our duty in all the centuries we've been tasked with it and I will _not_ be the first. You understand?"

"God damn it, Gladio!" I said. "I can get out of there a hell of a lot faster than you can. You know that!"

"I don't care."

My body suddenly went limp at the sound of those words. I slumped to the ground and leaned against the stone to support myself. How the hell was I supposed to respond to that? I didn't have a clue, so all I could spit out was—

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Gladio," Prompto interjected, "look… I know you don't want to hear this, man, but in the time it takes to snap your fingers, Noctis can get, like, fifty yards away from here."

"He's right," Ignis chimed in. "I hate to say it, but Noctis has better odds of a safe return than the other three of us put together."

All of our words, all of our logic – it all went in one ear and out the other, and Gladiolus stood up and began stretching out his muscles in preparation.

"It doesn't matter," he said. "I still don't want to take that chance. If something goes wrong, I'd rather it be me out there than him."

"You can't be serious!" I said. "This is the whole reason I learned how to do the warp dash in the first place! You don't have to worry about me!"

"Of course I do!" he argued back. "Worrying about you is my whole damn job!"

"Screw your job! Just listen to me!"

"No, _you_ listen to _me,_ " he said, crouching so he could look me in the eye. "I'll be damned if I have to explain to your father why the only heir to his throne got himself killed by a Behemoth in the middle of the Duscae wilderness when he was supposed to be in Altissia by tomorrow. That's not gonna happen, because nothing you say right now is gonna change my mind."

He stood upright again and turned to leave.

"You're my brother, Noct," said Gladiolus. "When I swore that oath that I wouldn't let any harm come to you… I _meant_ that shit."

I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what to say. I didn't care about his claim that nothing I did or said was going to make any difference. There had to be some way to stop him from doing this. There had to be. But I couldn't think of one. Why the hell couldn't I think of one? Was I really that shitty a friend? He had always looked out for me; he'd never once failed to have my back when I needed him. Now I felt like it was my turn to look out for him, and I was botching it – _badly._ And in retrospect, as I sat there watching him walk away, I realized that I always had. Every time I dragged him into situations where he could get hurt, every time he _did_ get hurt trying to protect my oh-so-important ass and all I offered in gratitude was a fist bump because I didn't know how else to express myself, and every time he dubbed himself "the royal meat shield" and I thought nothing of it, I'd failed him. Hell, I didn't even know where he picked that phrase up, be it from people around town looking down on him for a perceived lack of other skills or from a sense of self-loathing that I never knew about. I always valued him as one of my best friends, but looking back I guess I also took him for granted as a bodyguard; I felt like he'd always be there because he always had been.

"Red light," I mumbled.

If he heard that at all, I couldn't tell. He didn't acknowledge it. He just kept going.

"Red light!" I called out to him. "Red light, you crazy bastard! That's a royal order!"

He turned his head as if contemplating looking back, but decided against it and kept moving forward.

"Power Trio, bro!" said Prompto, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice.

That got Gladio's attention. It didn't make him stop, but it did get him to raise his right hand with four fingers fully extended.

Ignis shook his head as he watched Gladiolus leave, pretending he didn't hear what Prompto had said, and adjusted his glasses. "Well," he said, "I suppose all we can do now is put ourselves in position."

"Whatever," I mumbled.

We stood up and began to head toward the fuse box, which was conveniently located near a ladder to the second story of the building. As I walked I kept looking out toward Gladiolus, by now a lone black-clad figure striding along the bright green grass in the distance, and wondered if maybe he would finally come to his senses and turn back. He didn't, as I expected, but it was still worth holding out hope that he might. I was so preoccupied with this that I never noticed Prompto breaking off from the group.

"Where the hell are you going?" asked Ignis.

"Away from the fuel tank," Prompto answered. "Duh."

"You're supposed to blow up the fuel tank."

"Yeah, and I don't want to be standing right next to it when it blows, now do I?"

"Fair enough."

With that, Prompto went off in search of a good vantage point from which to shoot the fuel tank while Ignis and I continued on toward the fuse box. As we approached it, I briefly wondered if perhaps the fuse box could be useful somehow. My logic was that perhaps there had been some kind of electrical device within the unfinished structure that could wake Deadeye or draw his attention away from Gladiolus. But that line of thinking quickly went out the window once I realized I couldn't explain why such a device would have been installed in any building this early into construction.

"So where would you like to go?" Ignis asked me.

"Huh?" I answered.

"Were you even listening?"

I didn't even realize he'd been talking at all. "Not really."

He sighed and folded his arms. "Look, I know you're worried about Gladiolus," he said. "I think he's out of his mind, to be perfectly frank, but—"

"Then why didn't you stop him?"

"The same reason you couldn't: he wouldn't listen."

"Three of us, one of him," I pointed out. "We could've easily held him back."

"Yes, we could have," he admitted. "Don't you hate it when you think of a better way to handle things long after it would've done you any good?"

"It does suck," I said. "I really hope that stops happening once I'm king."

"Ask your father how that's going for him."

"What about my chief advisor?"

"I could use some work on that myself," said Ignis. "Anyway, I'll be going to the second story to serve as a lookout. I can get a better read on how close Gladio is to the target and a better view in case any uninvited guests arrive." He approached the ladder and gripped a rung. "Also, I can strike Deadeye from above if need be. What about you?"

"I think I'll stay around here," I said.

"Doesn't seem like a very strategically useful spot."

"Only if everything goes according to plan," I explained. "If something goes wrong, I'm getting Gladiolus out of there. And I don't give a shit whether he likes it or not."

Ignis held still for a moment as if he wanted to say something else, but must have had second thoughts about it. He shook his head and started climbing up the ladder. I turned and watched as Gladio continued his onward march to the sleeping giant, preparing to wake him by doing… something. Had I been the one going out there, I could easily have used one well-placed Fire or Thunder spell and saved the rest of my magic for warping my way toward the fuel tank. But what the hell was Gladiolus supposed to do? He doesn't use any magic, not even a simple Cure spell to patch up the various wounds that were the hazards of his line of work (Ignis, on the other hand, says everyone should at least know _some_ basic healing magic, and I've been meaning to learn some for years). Surely he wasn't going to get in too close with an attack; if he was going to make it back safely he would need a good head start.

It looked like Gladio still wasn't quite close enough yet, so I glanced around the construction site to see what the others were up to. Ignis stood on a catwalk on the second story, peering out a window with a look of simultaneous concern and confusion. Meanwhile Prompto was fussing with a valve on the fuel tank, straining to turn it before finally opening it. A stream of gasoline came spewing out onto the grass and he rapidly shut the valve off. Good thinking on his part; it must not have occurred to any of us when we were concocting this little scheme that the fuel tank could have been empty. I could have sworn there was usually a gauge on those things that told how much was left inside, but perhaps this one was broken. That would have been typical of our recent luck.

"He's almost there," Ignis announced. "Stay sharp."

I turned my attention back to Gladiolus, standing firm not far from the Behemoth. It was impossible to make out from this distance, but he seemed to be holding something in his hand. He looked down at it and shook it up and down, determining its weight. Then he tossed it straight up in the air and caught it again.

"What the hell is he doing?" I thought out loud.

"I think he's about to throw a rock," said Ignis.

"He can't be serious."

But he was. He raised his leg a bit as if winding up, and then launched a rock with all his might, aiming straight for the face. The stone struck the beast right in the muzzle, and he squirmed about and uttered a low growl in obvious discomfort, but didn't wake. Gladiolus didn't give him a chance to get settled again – he chucked another rock at Deadeye and this time hit him in his… well, his dead eye.

The growling grew louder as Gladiolus watched the Behemoth slowly rise to his feet, ensuring that he'd done his job.

"All right, Deadeye's up!" Ignis called out. "Everyone stay calm, and be ready for anything!"

I wasn't doing a very good job following this order.

"Don't just _stand_ there!" I shouted at Gladiolus, even though I knew he couldn't hear me. "Run like hell, you idiot!"

As if on cue, Gladiolus immediately did a 180 and began sprinting back toward the construction site. Deadeye looked a bit drowsy at first as he regained his bearings after the rude awakening, but as soon as he shook it off he turned his attention to the little figure in black running away from a nearby pile of stones. Gladio was about halfway back by the time the Behemoth finally started giving chase.

It didn't matter.

I had never seen a Behemoth chase anyone before. I don't recommend the experience. It was like watching a race car gaining ground on an old jalopy after the latter had been given a ten-minute head start. With each step he took, I could feel my blood running colder and colder until I froze up.

And as soon as Deadeye was in range, he raised a mighty paw and swiped at Gladiolus. The blow launched Gladio through the air and sent him tumbling like a rag doll on the grass.

"Shit!" yelled Ignis.

"What the hell just happened?" Prompto called from his position near the fuel tank.

Then Deadeye turned and began prowling toward Gladiolus and—

 _ZAP!_ A thunderbolt struck Deadeye in the nape of his neck, and he staggered a bit, clearly stunned by the impact.

I had started charging one up as soon as I saw Deadeye start lifting himself off the ground, and I cast it just before he could finish off Gladio. So stupid – I should have cast that spell sooner. Why didn't I cast it sooner?

And how did mankind ever get by before the discovery of magic?

"Get him to the fuel tank, Ignis!" I shouted, and I blasted the Behemoth with another Thunder spell to keep him off balance.

Ignis looked at me with utter bewilderment. "Me?" he shouted back. "How the hell am I supposed to do that?"

"You're smart, _you_ figure it out!"

And before he could respond to that, I warped over to Gladio – reached him in about four seconds flat. It's such a strange sensation, warping. Everything around you becomes a blur, and time seems to slow down while you keep moving forward at an inhumanly high speed that you start perceiving as normal once you've warped a few times and gotten used to it.

He was still conscious, but beaten up pretty badly, and I could see a few small bruises already starting to form on his chest and a thin trail of blood trickling down his chin. He wasn't moving much and was clearly in serious pain; I couldn't tell whether or not he had any broken bones. Meanwhile Deadeye stalked around the outer wall of the building, looking for whatever had just blasted him with that Thunder spell.

"Whoa," Gladiolus whispered as soon as I arrived. "That _was_ really fast."

" _That's_ why it should've been me, you jackass," I muttered, digging through my pocket for the strongest Potion I could find in it. "Are you all right?"

"I've been better," he said, "but then again, I've also been worse."

I wasn't in the mood to argue otherwise, so I simply rolled my eyes at that.

"Here, drink this," I said, pulling a Hi-Potion out of my pocket. "It won't fix _everything_ that's wrong with you, but it's a start. And don't fight me on this, or so help me God I will hold your mouth open and pour it down your throat."

He was still a bit hesitant to take the bottle, but he reached over to take it, wincing as he did so. "Thanks," he mumbled, and he popped the cork and gulped it down.

Just then I heard an agitated roar coming from outside the building. While I waited for the Hi-Potion to course through Gladio and start patching him up from the inside, I turned to see how the others were faring. Deadeye was on the ground, his big head surrounded by the remains of a shattered concrete block; Ignis must have found a loose one and knocked it down on the Behemoth's head. Prompto emerged from behind the wall and fired a few shots, which only served to irritate the monster more, and he only stopped shooting to wave his arms about and shout some taunts that I couldn't really make out.

"You feeling any better over there?" I asked Gladio.

"Noctis, I want to meet whoever invented this stuff and give that person a bear hug."

"I take it that's a yes?"

"Hey, it's not all good news. It left a pretty awful aftertaste in my mouth."

"We'd better get back over there," I said, helping him to his feet.

We both ran for the construction site – I could easily have grabbed Gladio's hand and warped us over, but I decided to save some magic instead. I could hear Prompto's gun blasting over and over from behind the wall, but I couldn't see Ignis on the second story. I did see Deadeye come running out from behind the wall and immediately turning around to face the others. But he didn't go running back to attack them like we expected. Instead he stood there, huffing and puffing, and it looked like he winced in pain at one point.

"I'm telling you, Noct," said Gladiolus, "there's got to be something wrong with him." I was about to ask him exactly what he thought was going on, but then I spotted Ignis and Prompto emerging from behind the wall, shouting taunts that weren't working.

Ignis seemed to be limping a bit, but with the pause in the action he took the opportunity to drink a Potion, gripping a pair of knives by the handle in his other hand. A quick look to my left explained how he got down. The ladder he'd used, along with a steel support structure, was lying on the ground among a pile of concrete rubble that used to be part of the second-story floor. Deadeye must have torn all that stuff down to trap Ignis upstairs. But Ignis, left with no other means of escape, must have jumped down to the ground – that would have explained the limp.

Prompto, on the other hand, seemed perfectly healthy, having managed to keep his distance from the Behemoth. It was pretty clear to see why he favored firearms; it was simply a more pragmatic approach, especially if you didn't know much magic. Of course, this was also part of the reason why Lucis had passed such strict gun control laws in the first place: they made it too easy to cause widespread harm from anywhere. My father has been pushing for magic restrictions for similar reasons, though magic users – especially the kind powerful enough to do significant damage – are a rare breed nowadays.

"You guys all right?" I called over.

"We almost got him with the fuel tank!" shouted Ignis. "It's proven itself annoyingly impenetrable so far."

Deadeye stepped forward to take a swipe at Ignis, who dove behind a concrete block for cover.

"It's a lot harder to corner him with only two of us," Prompto added, and he fired a couple shots to draw attention away from Ignis.

"Like it'll be a piece of cake with four," said Gladio. "Cover me!"

Prompto reloaded and started draining another clip in the Behemoth's huge body while Gladiolus summoned his greatsword and rushed in to attack. I was a few steps behind him, running in a different direction in hopes of confusing Deadeye, brandishing my falchion with one hand and charging another Thunder spell with the other.

My diversion worked – Deadeye raised a paw to swing at me and was promptly stopped by a mighty spinning slash at his side, courtesy of Gladio. As Deadeye recoiled from the attack, I let the Thunder spell fly. It staggered him again, as expected, but not quite as much as before. This time he was able to shake it off a little quicker, and he whipped at me with his tail. I managed to dodge it somewhat, but it still caught me enough to knock me to the ground.

Meanwhile Prompto continued firing away and Ignis darted about from place to place, tossing knives at the Behemoth now and then and only stopping, from the looks of things, to start preparing a Venom Strike. I could tell the long-distance attacks were starting to make Deadeye angry. He started taking steps out of the corner, away from me and Gladio and toward the others. Then he raised his head and swung his massive horns back and forth. Ignis was able to dodge it, though he came down somewhat awkwardly on that leg he'd been limping with earlier.

Prompto wasn't so lucky.

He'd come out of cover to take some more shots at Deadeye while the big bastard was going after Ignis. He hadn't anticipated that he might have been a target too. So when the horn came swinging his way, it caught him completely off guard and nailed him right in the midsection – thankfully with the broad side and not the sharp tip. He dropped his gun on impact and was bent over the horn as it started lifting him in the air.

"Holy shit!" shouted Gladiolus.

Prompto was dazed for a moment by the attack, but once he realized he was airborne he gave a frightened shout. He started clinging to Deadeye's horn for dear life.

"Guys!" he hollered as loud as he could. "Somebody get me down from here!"

Deadeye was the first to volunteer for that. He started shaking his head around, trying to throw Prompto off. I don't know how, but Prompto managed to keep his grip.

"Drop him, you bastard!" said Gladiolus, slicing at Deadeye's leg.

But the Behemoth continued to swing Prompto around like a rag doll. I ran over and threw up my hands to try grabbing Prompto's feet, but he remained perpetually out of my reach.

"Hang on, Prompto!" I shouted.

"I don't want to hang on!" he yelled. "I want to get the hell off of this thing!"

I glanced over toward the others. Gladiolus was dodging Deadeye's footsteps and trying to balance himself so he could land another stab. And Ignis was running full speed ahead, straight for the monster's head.

"One Venom Strike, coming up!" he called out.

The blade caught Deadeye on the side of his neck, causing him to lower his head just enough for me to reach Prompto. And as soon as Prompto felt my hand grab at his ankle, he let go, knocking us both to the ground.

"Did it work?" asked Ignis.

Gladiolus stepped back from the Behemoth for a moment to observe his behavior. "I can't tell," he said. "He doesn't seem any different."

"Shit, he must be immune!"

"Hey, it got me down!" said Prompto. "That's good enough for me!"

He took a few shots at Deadeye's horns, presumably to get revenge for his little mishap with them. It didn't do any apparent damage, but it did piss Deadeye off. He took a few intimidating stomps toward Prompto – and then stopped, as if he suddenly remembered his surroundings. He immediately turned around and distanced himself from the construction site.

"Why the hell isn't he charging at us anymore?" Prompto asked, which would have sounded bizarre an hour earlier. "He keeps going back to that corner."

He was right. The Behemoth had been strangely insistent on backing himself toward the cliff we'd passed through to get here. I wondered if he was trying to lure us into a trap - maybe he had some secret special attack in mind and wanted us to start closing in on him before he used it.

"You don't suppose he's figured out our plan, do you?" suggested Ignis. "He's been staying as far away from that fuel tank as possible."

"Let's fix that," I said.

And with that, I warped straight over to the beast and gave him a good slash across the chest. He roared in pain and turned to face me just as I warped again and slashed him along the side while Ignis struck at him with his knives. Then another warp, this time underneath him, and I gave him a cut on his abdomen. Every time I struck him, he tried to counter my attacks, and I was too fast for him to keep up with me. His wounded stumbling gave me enough time to run away.

I turned around to look at whatever damage I'd managed to do. Deadeye was thrashing about, pounding the ground in absolute rage, roaring and snarling louder than we'd heard from him before. He was badly wounded all over his body, but he still didn't seem like he was ready to go down anytime soon. Instead he looked as though he was about to go into Berserk mode. So I threw a Fire spell at him just to piss him off even more, and it wound up burning some of his mane and leaving marks on his purple flesh. A faint red glow began to materialize around him, and I smiled at that.

See, here's the thing about going Berserk: it makes you a lot stronger, yeah, but it also makes you a lot _dumber_. Literally every thought your brain is capable of thinking boils down to "ATTACK, ATTACK, ATTACK." Forget defending yourself, forget healing yourself, forget protecting your allies – all you want to do is lash out at every creature in sight.

"Take cover, guys," I said. "And Prompto: on my signal, shoot like crazy."

Gladio's eyes started going wide as he realized what I was about to do. But to his credit, he nodded and went behind a concrete block.

"Wait a minute," said Prompto, "what's the signal?"

"You'll know it when you see it."

By now the Behemoth had completely lost his mind. He was pacing about in that corner, looking for something to go after. And I was all too happy to volunteer. I hid my weapon, stepped out in plain sight, and whistled at him to get his attention. He immediately glanced over at me with a glare that would have terrified me not too long ago, and he unleashed a deafening roar.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sick of you too!" I shouted. " _Get over here!_ "

He dug his claws into the ground and launched himself in my direction. Fortunately I still had enough magic left over for a few more warp dashes, and I used one to give myself more of a lead. I sprinted through the construction site, but pretty soon I could hear his footsteps closing in, so I used another. I didn't need a third to reach the fuel tank. I placed a hand against it and turned to see Deadeye stalking his way through the rubble. He was getting close. Behind him I could see Prompto pulling out his gun and starting to aim.

"You know, Fire and Thunder aren't the only tricks up my sleeve," I taunted.

Out the corner of my eye I could see a steel beam hanging over the second story across from the fuel tank. I hoped I could get a good grip on it.

By then Deadeye had almost reached the fuel tank. He was close enough that I could see the color of his one good eye. He lifted his head and roared once more.

"Check this out," I told the Behemoth. "Now you see me…"

I raised my left arm and prepared to warp. I only had enough magic for one more.

"Now you don't."

And just as Deadeye started moving his head in for an attack, I felt the familiar rush as I warped upward across the construction site. I felt my hand hit the metal – _ouch_ – and gripped it with all my might.

Once my grip was secure I swung my head around and looked for the others. Prompto was already firing away while the others were getting in position to swoop in for the kill. Some of his shots were hitting the fuel tank. A lot of them were hitting Deadeye instead.

"You're hitting the wrong target!" Gladiolus shouted.

" _You_ try shooting past a monster the size of a friggin' house!"

Meanwhile I hung there helplessly, all of my magic having been used up, trying to figure out some other way to destroy the tank. What else could we possibly do? Improvise some kind of explosive device? No, we couldn't do that. What were we supposed to use? But there had to be some way to—

 _BOOM!_ The fuel tank finally exploded. The rush of air from the blast nearly knocked me off the beam. A portion of the wall near the explosion was flung out into the open field, leaving a big gap behind. The smell of gasoline was suddenly everywhere. And Deadeye was thoroughly engulfed in the flames. His body was severely burned all over, and more of his mane was burned away. He dropped to the ground and lay limp, huffing and puffing and choking on the smoke.

I didn't waste any time. Before the smoke could even start to clear, I summoned my falchion again, dropped onto Deadeye's back from above, and sank the blade into the nape of his neck. Deadeye's head fell to the ground, and he stopped moving.

Well, this was the part where we were supposed to start celebrating. After all, we had just become 25,000 gil richer, hadn't we? But this had been a long and grueling fight. We were all so exhausted that all we could really do was trade high-fives and fist bumps.

"Hey Noctis," called Gladiolus, "you can come down now."

But something wasn't right. I felt a slight rumble growing beneath my feet, and I could hear a sound that could only be described as a long and slow intake of breath.

"I don't think we're done just yet," I said, looking back toward the others.

Ignis and Gladiolus reacted with obvious frustration, as expected. But something caught Prompto's eye, and he tilted his head back and squinted his eyes.

"Whoa," Prompto said, raising an arm to point toward the sky. "What the hell is that?"

The rest of us all followed Prompto's finger to a point directly above the fallen Behemoth. It was a bright ball with little energy bolts and tendrils circling it. It looked something like fiery thunder, but not enough like either to pass for an elemental spell. It was gradually growing with each passing second, engorging almost like a balloon being inflated. And I was getting the feeling I didn't want to be around to see it burst.

"Is that magic?" I asked to no one in particular.

Of course it was magic – what else could possibly explain a ball of pure energy materializing out of nowhere? But I had no idea who could have cast the spell. As far as we knew there was nobody around for miles except the four of us and… no… no, it _couldn't_ have been—

"Oh my God," Ignis said. "That's a Flare spell!"

"What?" I called over to him.

"It's Flare magic, Highness!" he shouted. "Get the hell out of there, _now!_ "

No sense in questioning those orders. I hid my weapon again and ran along Deadeye's spinal cord. Then I leapt from his back and tumbled on the ground. I felt a sharp burst of pain in my shoulder as I landed. I could worry about that later.

"Everyone get to cover!" I could hear Ignis yelling. "Move it!"

Gladiolus rushed over to help me up and dragged me forward for a few steps. He gave me a little shove once I was fully on my feet.

"Go!" he ordered. "Don't look back, Noctis! Just keep running!"

And with that, we sprinted away from Deadeye as fast as our legs could take us. Suddenly there was a loud blast behind us, even louder than the exploding fuel tank. It was the Flare spell going off, releasing its terrible energy all over the construction site, and we could hear walls and support beams collapsing around us. We kept running anyway.

We weren't fast enough.

I didn't realize that. But Gladiolus did. He tackled me from behind just before the Flare spell hit us. He threw himself over me and took the full brunt of the blast so I wouldn't have to. I could still feel the spell burning my skin, mostly on my lower legs and on my arms as I covered my head. It was the most agonizing pain I have ever experienced in my life.

Everyone was screaming. Ignis and Prompto were drowned out pretty quickly by the explosion and destruction. Soon I could barely even hear myself. And as the Flare spell rushed over us, some part of my brain began asking itself some horrible questions. I wondered if anyone would ever find us. I wondered if whoever _did_ someday find us would understand at all what happened here. And I wondered how many people would even care.

It's hard to even begin to describe what it feels like when you just _know_ you're about to die, but you're not ready for it by a long shot. All these memories start rushing through your head in a blur, good and bad, friends and enemies, successes and regrets. And all of it suddenly feels so meaningless because your memories will die with you, and all the people you've ever met will just move on without you. But at the same time all you want is the chance to make more memories, and there is absolutely nothing you won't do to get that chance. I always used to think dying was sort of like flicking a light switch off, or one of those nights where you fall asleep and you don't have any dreams, the kind where you close your eyes and when you open them again it's already the next day. But this feels more like you're being dragged kicking and screaming into oblivion, and you're trying to fight off the Grim Reaper even though you know damn well that he's undefeated, but you keep fighting anyway because God damn it your life wasn't long enough and you barely got to do anything you wanted to do.

I have no idea how the hell we survived that Flare spell. I may never know. But I'll never complain either.

Once the spell finally dissipated, Gladiolus and I continued to lie still on the ground, as if we were waiting to somehow be convinced that we were still alive. The pain was like nothing I had ever felt before, yet I was strangely glad I could feel it – better than being dead, after all. And I had been shielded from the blast. I couldn't even imagine how the others were feeling.

"Gladio?" I finally whispered. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he muttered, his voice reduced to a weak and raspy croak, and he lifted himself off of me and slowly crawled to the side.

He clearly wasn't fine. He tried to roll over on his back, but he cried out in pain and just flopped to the ground instead. His arms and back were pretty badly burned, and I think I spotted some redness on his face too.

"Don't move, man," I said.

"Relax, Noct," he said. "I told you, I'm fine."

"Stop saying everything is _fine_ , damn it," I mumbled, lifting myself into a crawling position.

"Can you stand?" he asked.

"I think so," I said. And sure enough, I slowly but surely rose to my feet – but not without feeling the pain of burned skin and aching muscles. "Okay, I'm up. Listen… anything you need… just say the word, and it's yours. All right? And that goes for when we get home too. I owe you _big time_ for that."

"Just go get Ignis," he said. "I could use a Cure spell or two right about now."

"All right," I said. "You just stay right here. I'll be back as soon as I find Ignis. But if you need anything else, just call me."

I only got a few steps away before he called me for something.

"Hey… where the hell is Deadeye?"

I looked over toward where Deadeye had been lying. I saw the rubble of the ruined building, and the twisted metal of the support towers, and I saw pieces of the destroyed fuel tank – but absolutely no sign of the Behemoth whatsoever.

"I don't believe this," I muttered. "He's gone."

"You think maybe… the, uh… the Flare spell… disintegrated his body or something? I mean, he was right there when it went off."

"I don't think so. But we can check for that later. We need to find the others first."

And so I set off in search of Ignis and Prompto. I stumbled through the remains of the construction site, coughing and wafting smoke and dust away from my face. Shards of shattered concrete were scattered all over the place, and I had to weave my way around the steel beams of a support tower that had come crashing all the way to the ground. I tried to call out for the others, but my voice was too weak to carry all that well, and the frequent coughing fits certainly didn't help matters. On top of all that, I was feeling a bit dizzy from the powerful impact of the Flare explosion and had to pause for a moment, holding a fallen beam while I waited for the disoriented feeling to pass.

"Noct!" a voice called from somewhere nearby. "Yo, Noct!"

It was Prompto. I looked around, following the sound of his voice, and spotted him on my right near what was left of a wall. He was lying on his back with much of his lower half buried in concrete rubble and a couple of beams that had broken off one of the support towers. He also had some bruises, scrapes, and a cut on his forehead.

"Prompto!" I exclaimed, and I hurried over. "Good lord… what a mess. Are you all right?"

"NO!"

"Sorry, that was a pretty dumb question," I said, and reached for a rock to pull away.

But Prompto reached out and tried to swat at my arm. "No, no, no, no, no!" he said. "Don't move the rocks."

"Why the hell not?"

"You have to get rid of the beams first. See how they're on top of the pile there?" He pointed at the beams, and I could see right away what he meant. "Every time you take away a rock, the beams drop a little more. It took me a little while to figure that out."

"Shit," I said under my breath.

"And I can't help you move those, bro," he said. "Even if I _could_ reach them, I'm not strong enough. Where's Gladio? He could probably bench press these damn things."

"He's in pretty bad shape," I explained. "I don't think he'll be able to get up until Ignis gives him a few Cure spells."

"Well, isn't _that_ just the cherry on the shit sundae."

"Do you have any idea where Ignis could be?"

He shook his head. "None at all, dude," he said. "I mean, my field of vision is kind of limited here, you know?"

"I figured you might say something like that," I said. "I'm gonna go find Ignis, and then he'll fix up Gladio, and then we'll be coming over for you, okay?"

He took a deep breath, coughed a little, and then let out a dejected sigh. "Man," he mumbled, staring off into space, "you think prison could be any worse than _this_ shit?"

"Prison is _way_ worse than this shit," I whispered. "Don't even joke like that."

"Oh really?" he countered. "You know any convicts who can do high-level Flare magic?"

"Not personally."

He snickered a bit at that. "Well, I'll just sit tight until you round up the rest of the crew," he said. "I guess I don't have much of a choice in that matter." He winced as a fresh jolt of pain rushed through his lower body. "Holy shit, Noctis, I thought you said Behemoths _couldn't_ do magic."

"Yeah, well, I was wrong," I muttered, and I set off to find Ignis.

I looked all around the construction site, assuming that Ignis couldn't have gotten far from where Prompto had been. But I couldn't see him anywhere. I looked back toward Gladio to see if Ignis had gone over to help him while I was checking on Prompto, but he wasn't there either. He wasn't at the fuse box and he hadn't made it into that open field, so where was he?

I had my answer soon enough. I found him lying motionless behind a pile of small concrete blocks. That was why I couldn't see him before – the pile had obscured him from my view. He didn't answer when I called out to him, so I walked in his general direction, ignoring the soreness in my right knee. I spotted one of his knives on the ground in front of the pile just before I saw him. He must have dropped it when the Flare spell hit.

He still wasn't answering me when I tried talking to him, so I walked right up to him and gave him a good shake. His glasses slid off, but he still wasn't moving. It was hard to tell whether or not he was even breathing. A sense of dread began to swell up inside me as I fumbled with his collar to check him for a pulse.

Relief rushed over me soon afterward as my fingers detected a soft thumping. He wasn't dead, thank God. He had simply been knocked unconscious somehow.

I started digging through his supplies in search of a Phoenix Down – and no, it wouldn't have done me any good if he had been killed. It's a common misconception that Phoenix Downs can resurrect the dead. Obviously that can't be true; otherwise the world would be staggeringly overpopulated with people refusing to shuffle off their mortal coils (I would have tried bringing my mother back a long time ago), and overcrowding and famine would run rampant everywhere you look. No, what a Phoenix Down actually does is revive a still-living person who has been knocked unconscious by some serious physical injury.

Even magic has its limits in this regard, though that hasn't stopped people from trying to unearth the secret to cheating death. And if someone ever did manage to figure it out, the world's governments would be awash in ethical debates about playing God and whatnot. My father wants to form a Magical Regulations Committee to determine the legality of magic use depending on situations. He believes, and I agree with him on this, that white magic (healing magic) should be allowed everywhere, while black magic (attacking magic like Fire and Thunder) is better off banned in civilized areas except in cases of invasion or rebellion. The MRC would be the ones to decide whether it's acceptable to bring the dead back to life, though my father would still have to sign off on their decision, as he would with any other magic laws. Of course, they would only consider the matter when not trying those accused of violating their rules or sentencing those convicted. After all, no one has ever discovered a spell that can undo dying.

Ignis started coughing and struggled to sit up as the Phoenix Down took effect. "We really should learn how to scan enemies," he muttered as he reached for his glasses and cleaned them off. "At least that way we could have seen that coming."

"Are you all right?" I asked. "You were out cold when I found you. What the hell happened?"

"Not quite sure," Ignis replied. "The last I can recall, I was running away from that Flare spell, and suddenly I was airborne and I collided with… that." He motioned toward the pile of blocks nearby.

"No wonder you ended up unconscious."

"And that's why I always say everyone should know some white magic," he said, casting a Cure spell on himself. "Imagine how you lot would be faring if I didn't know any."

"Point taken, believe me."

"Well, at least you seem relatively all right. Where are the others?"

"Some place where they could really use a visit from Dr. Scientia," I said.

Ignis groaned as he lifted himself up, and we went to go cure Gladiolus. He was taken aback by Prompto's situation and wondered aloud why we weren't helping him first, but soon agreed that we would need all the muscle we could get to dig Prompto out. Gladiolus voiced similar concerns once Ignis got to work on him, and in typical Gladio fashion he said to save as much magic as possible to heal Prompto.

"Damn it, Gladio," I muttered, "you need this magic almost as much as Prompto does."

"I'll be fine," he said. "I just need enough to get back on my feet, and soon it'll feel like none of this ever even happened."

"No," I said. "You can't just brush this off. It's okay to give a shit about your own well-being, I promise you."

"I'm a professional bodyguard, Noct," he said. "I'd be pretty lousy at my job if all I did was look out for number one."

He motioned for Ignis to stop casting Cure spells and stood up slowly. I could tell he still wasn't a hundred percent healthy; if he was, he wouldn't have taken as long to get himself upright. But Gladiolus didn't care. He started twisting around and stretching his limbs, pretending that this limbering up wasn't causing any discomfort. He turned to start walking over to Prompto, but I wasn't about ready to let him have the last word. Not this time. No matter what he said, I would not let him win.

"You know what?" I argued, folding my arms in frustration. "At some point, you have to draw a line, okay? I don't know where the hell you think that line is supposed to be. But I don't like where you've drawn it."

He stopped and turned his head toward me, but didn't make eye contact. "Look," he said, "if this is about what happened earlier…"

"Yeah, it kind of is."

"I told you already, Noct. If something goes wrong, I'd rather have it happen to me than you." He placed his hands on his hips and finally looked me in the eye, taking deep breaths slowly because he simply cannot let anyone see him huffing and puffing. "And sure enough, something went wrong out there. Didn't it?"

"Gladio, something went wrong out there _because_ it was you!" I shouted.

That line stung – for Gladio, and for me. I knew I was technically right, having just successfully lured Deadeye to the fuel tank without taking so much as a paper cut's worth of damage. But as I watched his gaze drop straight down to his feet, I didn't feel so sure about that anymore. All he wanted to do was protect me, just like he'd always done, and just like he had sworn to do for the rest of his days. It was a strange thing, lashing out at him for trying to do exactly that. It made me ask myself how things might have gone differently had my father hired a bodyguard who wasn't my friend. Was it better to befriend your bodyguard and fear for their safety just as they did for yours? It had to be, right? What kind of person wouldn't feel at least a little concerned for someone they'd hired to take a bullet for them at a moment's notice? But then again, what kind of person would put a friend in that position in the first place?

"All right, gents," Ignis interrupted, "the last thing we need is another bloody shouting match. So why don't we just table this for now and go get Prompto, all right?"

I looked over at Gladio, and he looked back at me. Neither of us said anything. We just nodded our heads and started following Ignis to the rubble pile where Prompto was still waiting to be excavated. But as we walked, I felt an elbow jab into my side.

"Hey. One more thing, if you don't mind."

"What is it?" I asked, in no mood to sneak an argument in behind Ignis's back.

"I'm sorry," Gladiolus muttered, his voice raspy and low enough that Ignis couldn't hear him. "You were right. I screwed everything up today."

And that was all he had to say. It still caught me by surprise, and I fell a few steps behind the others before I could refocus myself and catch up.

* * *

Another couple hours of searching went by, and the weather was growing worse by the minute. It wouldn't be long before the entire Duscae region would be hit with a torrential downpour. Hopefully it wouldn't be anything more serious than heavy rain, but we had no means of finding out anyway. I had begun internally debating myself as to whether we should keep up the hunt for Deadeye or put it on hold and seek shelter from the upcoming storm.

After Deadeye had cast the Flare spell, he managed to get up and stagger away to the southeast; none of us were quite sure why he didn't stick around to make sure he'd killed us, but I figured he had simply taken the chance to escape while he still could. The Behemoth had clearly still been very much out of sorts for a long time after our battle at the construction site, and this helped make tracking him a bit easier. Trampled bushes and broken trees lined the path he'd taken from what was once his home turf, and the footprints he'd left behind resembled those of someone so intoxicated they couldn't walk in a straight line – well, at first anyway. The longer we followed Deadeye's tracks, the more his footprints seemed to properly align themselves. It wasn't so much that we could have assumed he was back to normal health, but enough to indicate that he was starting to recover from that battle.

"He must know some kind of Cure spell," Ignis theorized. "There's no other way he could be feeling that much better already."

"Even if that's true," countered Gladiolus, "I still think there's something wrong with him. And it's something that he doesn't know how to fix. Otherwise he would have done it by the time we fought him."

Ignis rolled his eyes and gave an exasperated sigh. "Gladio, you've been saying that all day," he said. "What could possibly have been wrong with him? He damn near incinerated us two hours ago!"

"I think Gladio might be right," I chimed in. "The Deadeye we saw taking out that Catoblepas yesterday and the one we just fought seemed like two different creatures. He's still pretty powerful, but he seemed less aggressive somehow."

At the mention of the word "Catoblepas," Prompto's eyes went wide and he started staring off into space. I wondered if that meant he remembered another place to find those mushrooms we'd been searching for when the beast started chasing us.

"Whatever," said Ignis. "If that's how he fights when something's wrong with him, then I'd hate to face him at full power."

We continued making our way through the woods and up a hill. Within a few minutes we began to feel the first drops of rain pitter-pattering on our heads. The thick green leaves overhead and all around us would likely block out most of the raindrops, but it was time to start looking for some place to stay dry. At the top of the hill we found a road, which might have been cause for celebration in better weather. But there were no signs around to tell us where the road would take us, and we weren't about to start running along the road in search of any. Hitchhiking seemed like a bad idea as well; even when we had the Regalia we passed maybe one or two cars per hour. We crossed the road and continued climbing the hill, following a dirt path that cut through the trees.

The path led us to a cave with huge rocks forming some kind of doorway. The opening was completely pitch black, and there was no way of knowing what (if anything) could have been inside. Still, the rainclouds overhead looked like they were on the brink of unleashing a thunderstorm, so we decided as long as we weren't intruding on any monster's habitat this was as good a shelter as any. Once we reached the cave, Gladiolus went inside to check for any inhabitants and reported no signs of any – at least none within the entrance. Meanwhile Ignis and I went outside to collect as many sticks and leaves as we could before the rain started pouring down, and Prompto stayed inside to arrange rocks for a makeshift fireplace.

Not long after Ignis and I returned with armfuls of kindling, the storm finally hit. We dropped the sticks and leaves into the fireplace and I cast a Fire spell on the pile. In a way, I thought, this storm might actually have been good for us. After that fight with Deadeye, we needed a chance to gather around a nice warm campfire and relax for a while. Three of us certainly relished the opportunity to give our muscles a well-deserved break, and we were so worn out that we didn't even bother making conversation. But Prompto sat there with his legs crossed, staring into the fire as if deep in thought about something.

"Hey guys," he finally said. "I think I may have just figured something out."

"Alert the media," mumbled Ignis, who was a bit cranky from getting drizzled on while collecting the kindling.

"Watch it, Ignis," I warned, recalling how the previous night's showdown had been sparked. "Prompto, we're all ears."

"Okay," Prompto said. "You guys know how Gladio keeps saying something's up with Deadeye?"

"Of course," said Ignis. "We were just talking about that fifteen minutes ago."

"Right. Well, uh… I was just thinking: what if Deadeye is sick?"

"What do you mean, _sick_?"

"Like physically ill, Ignis. What definition of _sick_ did _you_ have in mind?"

"Well, that would certainly explain why he's acting strange," Gladiolus said. "But what could have made him sick?"

Prompto grinned and snickered a little. "Oh, you guys are gonna kick yourselves for not thinking of this," he said.

"Try me," Ignis mumbled.

"Well, Deadeye's been munching on that Catoblepas we fought yesterday, right?"

"Unless he got another one," I suggested, "which seems unlikely."

"Okay, let's say for the sake of argument that it's the same one," Prompto said. "If it _is_ the one we fought yesterday, then that means it's the one Ignis nailed with that Venom Strike." Prompto glanced around the campfire at each of us and smirked as we started picking up on his logic. "Which means our buddy the Behemoth has been eating poisoned meat for the last day and a half."

We sat there for a moment, exchanging glances, letting this information sink in.

"Holy shit," said Gladio. "He's actually right."

"That would explain why the Venom Strike didn't work on him," Ignis admitted. "You can't poison something that's already been poisoned."

Just then we heard a loud clap of thunder, startling us all and making us jump a little. The wind picked up and whistled as it blew through the cave, and all of a sudden the rain began pouring heavily. I wondered if Deadeye had been able to find any shelter, and if not, whether he was looking for any somewhere nearby. He was too big to fit in the cave, but if he happened to pass by and spot us… well, something told me he wouldn't want to leave. And with all four of us still trying to recuperate from our last encounter with the Behemoth, it was hard to feel optimistic about the outcome of that hypothetical rematch, whether he was poisoned or not.

"So how long do you guys think we'll be stuck here?" asked Prompto.

None of us had any answer for him. All we could do was crowd around the fire to keep warm as the gusts grew stronger, the rain poured harder, and the sound of thunder continued to rumble somewhere off in the distance. That, and hope Deadeye didn't have enough luck to find us again until we were good and ready.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Look everyone, more drama bombs for your reading pleasure!

Man, this was a tough chapter to pump out. For one thing, it's easily the most action-oriented chapter thus far. I struggle with action scenes, especially action scenes of the "epic RPG boss battle" variety. The other reason is because out of all the characters in _FFXV_ 's Big Four, I had the hardest time writing Gladiolus. Ignis and Prompto seemed like pretty natural adversaries, with Noctis getting caught between them. Gladio was the "cool big brother," but until I came up with what you've just read, I didn't really know what else to do with him. He was just… _there_.

The title of this chapter comes from "Let It Happen" by Tame Impala. The author's note quote is from "I Should Live In Salt" by the National, which is about the lead singer's relationship with his brother. There's a nod to Bush's "Machinehead" after the first encounter with Deadeye. Noctis quotes part of Wakka's Blitzball coaching strategy from _FFX_ ("get the ball and shoot like crazy") and does his best impression of Scorpion (from _Mortal Kombat_ ) shortly after that. As for Deadeye himself, I borrowed a couple tricks from Behemoths throughout the _Final Fantasy_ series; in past games they've been able to inflict Berserk status upon themselves and cast high-level spells like Flare or Meteor when their health runs low. And much of Noctis's rant about how Gladiolus always says everything is "fine" comes from me yelling at myself over how I use that word in everyday life.


	5. Forgotten And Absorbed

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own _Final Fantasy XV_ , its characters, or any other intellectual property belonging to Square Enix. Nor do I own any other pieces of pop culture that I reference here.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** "So if you call me back and let me in, I swear I'll never let you down again."

The following contains major spoilers for Episode 4 of _Life Is Strange_ (that's not a typo), which I included because it sets up one of my favorite jokes in this whole story.

* * *

 **5** _forgotten and absorbed into the earth below_

* * *

The thunderstorm outside had been raging on for probably an hour, possibly longer. It wasn't the sort where you had to worry about falling trees or property damage; nor, thankfully, was it the sort that made you scan the skies for funnel clouds. But it was still serious enough that we were better off seeking shelter than trying to venture our way through it. So there we were, sitting around a campfire in a cave in the middle of a Duscae forest, stuck in neutral until the storm finally subsided and we could resume our increasingly frustrating hunt for Deadeye.

We had absolutely no idea what to do to pass the time. We had nothing to write with, so Hangman and Tic-Tac-Toe were out. We didn't have any cards, and we'd all lost our taste for Truth or Dare during our early teen years. The weather was still too nasty to go out looking for any more sticks to throw in the fire. Twenty Questions might have sufficed, but it didn't occur to any of us at the time that it was an option. And there are only so many rounds of I Spy that you can play in a cave before you start picking things that are too obvious or overly obscure.

"I spy with my little eye something… _purple,_ " Gladiolus mumbled at one point.

"It's my shirt," said Ignis.

" _God,_ I hate this game."

Meanwhile I kept getting lost in thought as I became more and more aware of my appointment in Altissia drawing ever closer. It was less than a day away and here I was, toiling in futility in pursuit of a monster that I had sorely underestimated, dragging my friends along for the ride in the process. I wondered if anyone had tried to check up on us to make sure we hadn't gotten lost or abandoned our responsibilities. Nobody had done so before we set off on this hunt, but with the deadline approaching I was bound to have someone breathing down my neck over the phone. Then they would get my voicemail over and over again because I had left my phone back at the Coernix caravan like an _idiot._ After that, of course, my father would send out the search parties. And they would probably never find us, because who the hell would ever think to look for us in some random cave?

It wasn't supposed to be like this. All we had to do was just drive out to the harbor, take a ship to Altissia, and meet Luna there so we could finish arranging the probably loveless marriage that awaited us both. I wondered what Luna was up to at that very moment, and whether she was worried about her childhood-friend-turned-future-fiancé blundering his way across the damn continent because he couldn't just take an airship like a reasonable person. Maybe there was some part of her that was hoping I would cancel, or maybe – dare I say it – she was actually looking forward to this arrangement with me. I don't know _why_ she would want to marry the kind of guy who could take a simple road trip and turn it into a monument to his own incompetence, but I guess there's no accounting for taste.

"Okay guys," Prompto said after a period of silence, disrupting my inner rambling, "I've got some food for time-killing thought. Which happens first: _Last Vision 15_ finally premieres, or we get the hell out of this cave?"

"At the rate this storm is going?" I answered. "I'd say the first one."

"Have they even announced a premiere date for that?" asked Ignis.

"No," said Prompto, "but they did schedule a press conference for the end of the month that I assume will be about that."

"So in other words, they've announced an announcement again."

"Yeah, pretty much."

"I don't care when it premieres anymore," said Gladiolus. "I'm not even expecting it to be classic television or anything. I just want it to be good, and projects that get worked on for over ten years are _never_ good."

"Hey," countered Prompto, "that Pistols N' Posies album wasn't bad _._ There were some legitimate bangers on that."

"Oh yeah? Do you remember any off the top of your head?"

Prompto scratched the side of his head, trying in vain to think of any melodies he'd heard on _Altissian Communism._ After about twenty seconds of this, he finally gave up and said, "Hey man, what do you think this is, a karaoke bar?"

"I'll take that as a no," Gladio said, flashing a victorious smirk.

"I'm making you listen to that album when we get home," said Prompto. "Okay… what about _King Blastem Infinity_? Did that ever come out?"

"Yeah, about four or five years ago," I said. "And I can count the number of positive reviews I saw for that game on one hand."

"Seriously?" he asked, his eyes going wide with surprise. "That's out too? Why doesn't anyone ever tell me these things?"

"You never asked."

This discussion was then immediately derailed by another loud clap of thunder, startling us again because we still hadn't quite grown accustomed to the noise. Still, the topic stuck in my mind for a little while afterwards. I may not be an artist, but I suppose I can understand the frustration of a long-running incomplete project; the political world is full of such things. I can't say I look forward to Tedious Funding Debate No. 715 regarding that metro line connecting downtown Insomnia to the suburbs. That project was first proposed when I was in kindergarten and still hasn't begun construction because there never seems to be enough money in the budget for it. Meanwhile the city has agreed to fork over tax money to upgrade the sporting complex with holographic replay technology in case it's ever invented, because it doesn't even _exist_ yet, because _clearly_ we as a society have our priorities in perfect order.

My God… this must be how my father feels all the time.

"Guys, this is starting to drive me crazy," Gladiolus said. "We've been cooped up in here way too long."

"There's no way we're going to make it to Altissia on time," lamented Ignis.

"Well, what are we supposed to do about that?" I asked. "You think we'll have an easier time fighting Deadeye if we go around carrying umbrellas?"

"That seems like the kind of thing I'd love to watch someone else try," said Prompto.

"Yeah, until the part where he Flares them to death," said Gladio. "It's a moot point anyway. We don't even _have_ any umbrellas."

"Well, look on the bright side—"

"Please don't say things couldn't be worse," Ignis interrupted. "You'll just invite the fates to toy with us some more."

Prompto rolled his eyes and started twirling one of his guns around. "Actually," he said, "I was about to say I was glad we haven't been attacked by anything living in this cave yet."

Just then we heard a series of high-pitched screeches and hisses coming from within the pitch-black depths of the cave. We all turned our heads to look as three goblins emerged from the darkness. They were human-like in structure and short in stature, though this may have been due to their constant crouching; I was unsure whether they did it to prepare for pouncing on someone or to keep their lanky bodies from falling over in a stiff breeze. They were gray-skinned and wire-thin, wearing simple rags or loincloths over their bodies and pointy dull-orange hats whose tips drooped toward their foreheads. And most importantly, they did not look very happy to see us.

"You just couldn't help yourself, could you?" Ignis said, glaring at Prompto.

Prompto ignored the remark and put a bullet between a goblin's eyes.

The goblins weren't very strong, so we were able to take them out rather quickly. It was a good change of pace from the long and grueling fight we'd had with Deadeye earlier. They were also rather agile little pests, darting about to avoid our bullets and blades. Since there were only three of them they stood no chance against the four of us, but I found myself hoping we wouldn't meet a significantly larger group. I pictured something similar to the undead hordes in those low-budget horror movies Gladiolus liked to rent when we were in high school, only faster and presumably more intelligent. And hopefully without a taste for human flesh, of course.

"Where the hell did those guys come from?" Gladiolus asked once we finished off the last of them.

"This may sound a bit farfetched," said Ignis, "but I think they came from inside the cave."

Gladiolus stood at the edge of the fire's light and stared into the darkness as if he thought he had night vision eyes. Once he determined that it was impossible to see anything at all, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small flashlight. He hooked it onto his shirt and clicked it on, producing a bright white glow that illuminated an empty tunnel leading to what could've been the center of the planet for all we knew.

"Hmm," he wondered aloud. "I wonder where this goes."

"You're not seriously suggesting that we go in there," said Prompto. "This place gives me the creeps enough as it is, and we've barely even gone through the front door."

"As a matter of fact, I am," Gladio answered. "We've got nothing else to do as long as this storm is still going."

"You could stay here if you want, Prompto," I suggested. "Just give us a whistle if you see Deadeye coming, would you?"

Prompto scoffed at that and shook his head a little. "I gotta stop giving a shit about my opinion," he muttered. "It's not like anyone else ever does."

He begrudgingly followed as Gladiolus led the way through the tunnel. It was wide and high enough to fit all four of us, but all we could see was the gray stony walls and path descending deeper and deeper into the earth with no end in sight. Our footsteps and voices echoed off the walls until they too dissipated into the void. It reminded me of a book I'd read once about a man who descends into the depths of Hell itself in search of his lost love. But at least he had the good sense to have a guide leading him through the abyss. It was so dark in there that Ignis, Prompto, and I ended up pulling flashlights from our own pockets and turning them all on at once, just as Gladio had, which was enough to make him stop dead in his tracks.

"Seriously, guys?" he said, shaking his head. "We brought _four_ flashlights, but only _one_ copy of the map? We really do suck at this."

"What a shame I left my crystal ball back home," said Ignis. "Otherwise I would've had the foresight to grab a spare."

"Whatever," said Gladio. "But could two of you at least turn your flashlights off so all of our batteries don't die at the same time?"

Ignis and I did as asked and Prompto left his flashlight on, insisting that the cave spooked him too much to go without the extra light source. We ventured on through the tunnel, and although it was impossible to tell exactly where we were, it was clear that the path was leading us deeper and deeper underground. We travelled slowly even though we could see far enough ahead to not be surprised by any sudden turns or drops, and the only sounds we could hear were our footsteps upon the stone beneath us.

Well, that and the colony of bats that suddenly came flying through the tunnel right at us. They flew straight over our heads and, as far as any of us could tell, all the way out of the cave.

"You see that?" said Prompto. "Even the _bats_ hate this place. They're smarter than we are."

Shortly after the bat incident, the tunnel ended and we reached a wide-open cavern. But despite being much less cramped than we were in the tunnel, we began treading more lightly. Even with two flashlights turned on, it was impossible to see everything around us all at once; hell, I'm not sure that would've been possible with all four. Prompto found a broken watch lying around, and none of us could figure out how it got there or why. Our first thought was that some unfortunate spelunker had lost it in the cavern and gave up searching for it. Then we remembered that there had been goblins living in there and figured they must have killed the unsuspecting owner. This in turn raised the question of why we couldn't find a body, so Gladiolus suggested that perhaps the goblins had stolen it. Finally, we all agreed that we had wasted far too much time speculating over a broken watch and moved on. We looked around for a path to continue exploring, but we only found a small gap in the wall downhill from where we'd entered the cavern.

"Aw, what a shame," Prompto said. "Looks like we've hit a dead end. I guess that means we'll just have to turn back now."

I walked over to inspect the gap. "This actually looks about the size of the gap we passed through to find the construction site," I announced. "We should be able to fit through."

"Damn it, Noct," Prompto complained. "Why do we _have_ to do this? Why can't you just take my side?"

I turned away from the gap and shot him a glare. "Are you really asking _me_ that question?" I asked.

He responded with a surprised look and dropped his gaze to his feet, having realized that he'd temporarily forgotten to appreciate my secrecy, and I immediately regretted lashing out at him. "Right," he mumbled. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," I said. "Just follow me."

I turned my flashlight on and began to slowly sidestep through the gap. Gladiolus followed a few steps behind once he saw I could fit through, though his buff frame was a tighter squeeze; I was a bit startled that he didn't insist on going first. Prompto came next at Gladio's urging just to ensure that he followed us (he's never liked small spaces very much), and Ignis came last. The gap led us to another tunnel, this one much wider than the first one we'd followed. Once Ignis came through, we continued along the path. Then we went around a curve and Gladiolus immediately spotted something on the ground ahead of us.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said, holding up a hand to signal us to stop.

"What's wrong?" asked Ignis.

"You see those little blue lights on the ground right there?" he asked, pointing to them.

"I see them," Ignis said. "What about them?"

"They're not from our flashlights."

"What's the big deal?" Prompto mumbled. "It's probably just another broken watch or something."

We started walking again, but our pace was a little slower now, more cautious. There didn't seem to be anything on the floor that was reflecting our flashlight beams.

"Maybe you're right," said Gladio as we approached the blue lights. "Just keep your weapons at the ready in case it's some kind of—"

Suddenly a group of three goblins climbed up through the ground right where we'd seen the blue lights and came charging right at us. They shouldn't have been any more difficult a challenge than the last group, but their little ambush had caught us off guard and they were able to get a few shots on us.

I took out one of them with my falchion. Out the corner of my eye, I spotted Prompto tumbling to the ground with his gun in hand. I could hear Ignis and Gladio slashing away at the other goblins behind me. But I was more interested in what was in front of me. Three more goblins were running up the tunnel toward us.

"Shit!" I said. "Guys, they've got reinforcements!"

Prompto fired at one of the newcomers from his spot on the ground, nursing a nasty scrape on his shoulder with his free hand. "What the hell _is_ this place?" he shouted. "Some kind of friggin' goblin village?"

"Yeah, probably," I replied, hurrying over to help him up.

Meanwhile Gladiolus finished off one of the blue-light-special goblins and came charging at the reinforcements with a spinning greatsword attack. He managed to hit two of them – one that perished immediately, and one that staggered backward. I warped over to the staggering goblin and finished that one off myself. Then I looked behind me at Ignis to see if he needed any help.

A goblin was rushing straight at him and took as mighty a swing at him as it could muster, but Ignis simply ducked under it. He did an effortless matador sidestep as the goblin ran past him. Then he ran the goblin through from behind with a knife, killing it instantly. But he wasn't done – once he took down that goblin, he threw his other knife like a dart down the tunnel. It struck the last goblin in the heart and it fell to the ground in a lifeless heap. _Bull's-eye._

"So Gladio," Ignis said as he cleaned off the knife he didn't throw, "were you about to finish that sentence with _trap,_ by any chance?"

"Gee," muttered Gladiolus, "how'd you know."

"It's too bad they didn't place any bounties on goblins," I said. "We could be making a fortune today."

We proceeded onward through the tunnel to another wall with a gap, this one along the bottom instead of a vertical crack. There was enough room for each of us to crouch and sneak through one at a time without any looming possibility of getting stuck inside or crushed by the wall collapsing. Prompto didn't bother pleading a case for turning back this time, having apparently resigned himself to being past a point of no return – or at least until we'd found whatever secrets were hidden within that cave. He was right about to suggest that we take a short break until he caught a glimpse of what waited ahead.

There, not far away from where we came through, we found what could only be described as a small _troop_ of goblins. They didn't seem to notice our presence; they mostly just paced to and fro as if waiting for someone – us, no doubt – to intrude upon their domain. It was hard to count exactly how many there were, but I estimated at least half a dozen.

"Oh, come on," complained Prompto, shaking his head. "More of these guys? Pretty soon this'll start to get boring."

"Seriously," I said. "At this rate, by the time we're done here today the whole damn species will be extinct."

* * *

Another half-hour or so passed by as we ventured through the cave. We eventually reached a second open cavern and were delighted and relieved to see bright beams of sunshine illuminating the whole place through large holes in the ceiling, allowing us to save our flashlight batteries for later. Unlike the rest of the cave up to this point, this cavern was littered with stalactites hanging overhead and stalagmites rising from the ground; there were so many that it looked as if the cave had teeth. The path weaved its way around pillars and pits, with small stalagmites lining the edges like a picket fence. We also met even more gangs of goblins who were just waiting to pick a fight with us, and once again this turned out to be a poor decision for everyone who wasn't us.

Once we were certain we had cleared the cave of every last goblin, we decided to finally take a break. Mostly we used the time to heal up and catch our breath, but Prompto kept glancing over at me like he wanted to say something. I wondered if the issue of his thieving alter ego was about to come up again, and I didn't look forward to that. It didn't come up, but what he did mention didn't make me feel much better.

"Man," he said through snickering, "the things a guy has to go through just to get married in this day and age!"

"I think we can add tardiness to that list by now," said Ignis.

I let out a long and dejected sigh at that, unappreciative as I was of the reminder of what I'd gotten us all into. But Prompto took it as frustration surrounding my eventual nuptials to Lady Lunafreya Nox Fleuret of the Niflheim province of Tenebrae, and so he addressed me in kind.

"Do you _really_ have to go through with it?" he asked.

"Hey," I answered, "if you've got a better idea for how to attain a lasting peace with Niflheim, I'm all ears."

"Whatever happened to peace treaties and nonaggression pacts?" Prompto suggested. "Those are still things, aren't they?"

"There _is_ a treaty in place," I said. "The wedding is supposed to be security for that. It's largely a symbolic gesture, but if one country violates the treaty they could be putting their own royalty in danger – among other reasons."

"I guess," said Prompto. "Kind of sucks that they make the choice for you, though. Like, what about that blonde in the white dress? Wasn't she from Tenebrae?"

"He _is_ marrying a blonde in a white dress from Tenebrae," said Gladiolus.

"Not Luna. I mean the _other_ blonde in a white dress from Tenebrae."

Ignis rolled his eyes and leaned against a stalagmite as he cleaned off his glasses. "Thanks, Prompto," he said. "That really narrows it down."

"Shut up, Ignis," Prompto retorted. "You wouldn't know her anyway. You weren't there. I'm talking about the girl Noctis met in that club back home a few weeks ago."

"Her name was Stella," I muttered.

"Oh yeah, I forgot all about her!" said Gladiolus. "Hey, she seemed to get along with you pretty well for someone whose family hates your family. I mean, you did sneak off with her for a long time…"

Prompto started to laugh as he picked up on Gladio's innuendo. He glanced over at me with a sly grin spread across his face. All I could do was silently hope the joke he was about to make wouldn't be _too_ dirty.

"My man Prince Noctis," he announced, offering a high five. "Gettin' shit _done,_ son!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" I said, keeping my hands to myself. "Nothing _got done._ We just talked for a couple hours. That was it."

"Yeah, I call bullshit on that," said Prompto. "Scale of 1 to 10, 1 being 'I'm filing a restraining order' and 10 being 'take me _right now,_ I'm all yours and I don't care who sees.' How badly did that girl want you?"

Well, going by Prompto's arbitrary scale, I would probably have put Stella somewhere around a 3, maybe a 4 at most. Sure, she may not have wanted to call the cops on me or anything, but she also must not have wanted to call _me_ either, considering how she didn't ask for my number or any other contact information. Then again, I didn't ask for hers either and I certainly would have liked to stay in touch. For all I knew, she had spent the past few weeks kicking herself for that oversight just as much as I have. And I use a pseudonym on social media, so even if she did try to find me there, she never would have found me under my real name. But what was the point in dwelling on all that? It's not like I was ever going to know for sure.

"Oh, have you finally run out of euphemisms?" I asked Prompto.

"You can't answer a question with a question, bro," he said. "Is she into you or not?"

"Nothing happened!"

"So that's a _no,_ then?"

"It's an _I don't know,_ because nothing happened!"

Prompto shrugged and finally decided to back off the topic. But I knew it wasn't much of a victory for me. He's the kind of person who will bug you about something, drop it once he realizes how much he's annoying you, and then pick it back up later once you've cooled off. It's actually a pretty safe bet as far as I'm concerned since I usually become more amenable to revisiting an issue later, as if my proverbial backburner wasn't crowded enough already. I don't know how I'm ever going to make it as the king if I've got 99 different previously-tabled problems all coming to a head at once. Sometimes you need to be able to make a call in the heat of the moment, and if I'm not mentally equipped to make the right decision fast, then I could get us all in a lot of trouble.

You know, like that time I made a snap judgment to go fight a Behemoth instead of waiting for a damn credit card reader to be delivered. That one wasn't ranking too high on my "best ideas" list at the moment.

"Noct, sometimes I just don't _get_ you," teased Gladiolus. "How do you talk to a girl that long, and hit it off with her that well, and _still_ not get her number?"

"What does it matter?" I said. "Yeah, she seemed pretty cool, but I'll probably never see her again anyway."

"Not with that attitude, you won't," chided Ignis.

"Not with me about to marry Luna, I won't," I countered. "I should've stopped trying to find her a long time ago. Besides, I'm sure our parents would have taught us to irrationally hate each other eventually." I recalled her mentioning that she was an accomplished fencer, and I pictured the two of us pitted against each other in some kind of duel that neither of us wanted to fight but had to regardless. I had a dream like that once.

"Just because your parents hate each other doesn't mean you have to," said Gladio. "It could be like… you know… that story with, uh… those two kids whose parents hate each other, and then wind up falling in love anyway."

"Wait," said Prompto, scratching his head, "do the _kids_ fall in love, or is it the parents?"

"There are a lot of stories like that," I said, ignoring the question.

"I think I know which one he means," said Ignis, and he turned to address Gladiolus. "Those kids both _died_ at the end."

"Well, is it at least a romantic death?" Gladio said with a playful smirk. "Dying to save each other's lives, or because death is the only place they'll be together, or something cheesy like that?"

Ignis wasn't amused by the apparent attempt at humor and slowly rose to his feet, signaling that he was ready to keep moving.

"Their deaths are a senseless tragedy," he said, "and treated as the families' karmic punishment for a senseless feud, as they should be. Dying is _never_ romantic, Gladio."

The path led us to another tunnel, and we passed through with caution and lit flashlights in case any more goblins decided to surprise us. If there were any more to be found, they must not have bothered coming out of hiding. We kept our eyes open for any more little blue lights on the ground and monsters unearthing themselves, but none ever appeared. It seemed that we had rid the cave of its goblin population once and for all, so we walked with greater confidence as the tunnel extended onward.

And then, finally, we saw the light at the end – heralded by a hand-carved message on a large boulder nearby that read _PLEASE BE EXCITED._

The tunnel brought us to a small pond surrounded by green leafy bushes. At the end there was a wall that led to a small opening through which the sun's rays could shine and nourish all the foliage. But most notable of all was the tree trunk sprouting from where the wall met the pond. It emanated a bright fluorescent green glow – nothing blinding or radioactive, but warm and gentle, blending in with the various shades of green among the plants. From the looks of things it was likely impossible to climb the wall, or at least not without making some sort of contact with the tree. I decided it was worth some further investigation.

"What is this place?" asked Prompto, gently touching a long leaf as if he couldn't believe it was really there.

"I don't know," said Ignis. "I've never seen anything quite like it."

And the closer we came to that tree, the more I began to sense something strange. It was magic, a kind that I couldn't recognize or understand. But still it beckoned to me with its otherworldly aura, drawing me ever closer to the tree that held its power. I reached out to touch the luminous trunk and—

"Hey Noctis!" Gladiolus called out. "Are you sure you want to touch that thing?"

"I'm sure," I said. "I just want to see what happens."

Ignis started laughing softly at me for that, hiding his face in the palm of his hand. "Famous last words," he quipped. " _This tree is glowing for no discernible reason. Let's see what happens when I touch it._ "

I rolled my eyes as I extended my arm once more and gently pressed my palm upon the tree trunk. As soon as my hand made contact with it, there was a sudden burst of magical energy surging all around the pond. It took all four of us by surprise and nearly knocked us all over, but it did no physical harm.

And then we heard a voice – loud and authoritative, deep and somewhat grizzled with age and experience, the voice of a wise elderly man echoing through the cave.

"At last, I am awakened," the voice announced. "I welcome you, Prince Noctis."

"Who the hell is that?" asked a frightened Prompto, speaking for nearly all of us.

Suddenly the specter of a man appeared before us, standing over the pond and gazing down at me. He was an elderly man, as I had assumed he might be, though he was far taller than any of us. His white hair was pulled back and somewhat obscured by his grandiose collar, and his long and wavy white beard extended about halfway down his body. He wore a thick heavy-looking robe with sleeves that drooped far below his arms, and he gripped a tall staff in one hand.

"My name is Ramuh, Lord of Thunder, eternal wielder of the Judgment Bolt," the man said. "I am one of those whom your people call the Archaeans. Our chief purpose is to harness the power of the stars and protect the natural world from the destructive forces of mankind. Still, we offer our protection to those fortunate few humans whom we deem worthy of such aid should they make a pact with us, those who require it to fulfill some great destiny that has yet to be written. Prince Noctis, you are among those few."

"Man, some guys have _all_ the luck," mumbled Prompto.

"How do you know my name?" I asked the thunder god.

"You and I have met before," said Ramuh, "and we shall meet again, in this world as well as countless others."

"I don't understand," I said. "How is that possible?"

Ramuh beckoned to us as if ordering us to watch something. Then he forcefully pounded the butt of his staff upon the water's surface. From the figurehead atop his staff came a burst of light and suddenly the walls of the cave disappeared, replaced by the infinite starry void of space and all the planets and galaxies and nebulae within it. Clouds began rushing in around us, engulfing us in sound and color, and we began to see people materializing everywhere, people we recognized immediately. They were alternate versions of ourselves – as adults and as children, past and present and future, some facing off with cyborg soldiers on a military base in Niflheim, some calling Ramuh to deal with a colossal Malboro before it could attack us with its tentacles or poisonous breath or rows of razor-sharp fangs, and some gathered around a pinball machine, simply immersing themselves in the mundane rather than some grand adventure. I even spotted myself battling Stella in a city square in one vision and singing some thankfully inaudible song in another, and I saw one that resembled my father's face without a beard – me at his age. And as they faded in and out, appearing from and dissipating into space and time, it occurred to me that this was merely a fraction of a fraction of what the likes of Ramuh could see.

"We Archaeans dwell at the crossroads of infinity," Ramuh declared. "There my brethren and I bear witness to every conceivable world, every path that each human may follow, every constant and variable, every choice and consequence across infinite realms and possibilities. We remain ever watchful, whether you exist as flesh-and-blood mortals, or characters upon a stage or screen, or as mere words upon a page."

"So why show yourself to me, of all people?" I asked.

I hoped the question didn't come off as rude, as I had asked it out of genuine confusion. The Archaeans, the gods of our world, were only known to make direct and regular communication with specific humans called Oracles. I was not one of those people – this was a hereditary gift that my bloodline had never before possessed – but I did know one of them personally: Luna, my bride-to-be, the youngest Oracle in human history. Her sacred status was all that kept the power-hungry empire of Niflheim from stripping Tenebrae of its remaining independence, which rendered it unique among the imperial provinces. It was also a factor in my arranged marriage to her; if her being an Oracle could singlehandedly keep the empire at bay, then perhaps it could protect Lucis too.

"A great storm is approaching," said Ramuh, "and the very fate of this world hangs in the balance. You have the might and the courage to fight back against this threat, but your best bet to withstand your future trials will be an alliance with my people. Whatever you choose, your fate and that of your present comrades shall be intertwined with that of the young Oracle of Tenebrae like threads within a cosmic loom."

He pounded his staff once more, and suddenly the walls of the cave re-appeared and solidified around us.

"What should I do?" I asked, unsure of what else to say.

"The choice is yours, and yours alone," he replied. "Should you wish to make a pact for my assistance, you need only place your hand upon this tree, and I shall henceforth offer my aid in your most dire hour of need. But be warned, prince: I fear my powers have weakened after centuries of disuse, and so I may only be summoned once per day."

With that, the Archaean slowly disappeared from our sight. A breeze blew around us, as if we could feel him spiriting himself away, back to whatever window to the infinite cosmos he had seen fit to come from.

"Noctis," concluded Ramuh, "the time has come for you to make your decision."

The four of us stood in stunned silence as the last vestiges of Ramuh's voice echoed through the depths of the cave and faded away. We stood there for some time that felt far longer than it probably was, glancing back and forth at each other, and then staring into space when we finally understood that nobody else in the room could explain anything either. It felt like waking up from a dream that felt so real you had to remind yourself upon waking that it wasn't, even though none of us had been sleeping at all.

"Whoa," Prompto said in a reverent whisper, and that was all he could transfer from his mind to his mouth for the time being.

"That's, uh, quite the magic trick," said Ignis.

"I'm not sure if I can even process all that," said Gladiolus, rubbing his temples with both hands.

"I'm not sure the human mind was ever _meant_ to."

"A great storm is approaching?" I repeated. "What do you suppose that meant?"

"Beats me," said Prompto, steadying himself against a rock. "Do you think _this_ is what an acid trip feels like?"

But soon we all seemed to simultaneously realize what to do next, and three pairs of eyes turned their attention to me. I said nothing; I didn't think any words were necessary. I looked back over at the glowing tree trunk, reached out, and rested my palm upon the fluorescent green bark. The tree began glowing brighter for a moment as I felt a powerful surge of magical energy flowing through my entire body, and soon it faded away.

"A wise decision, Prince Noctis," said the voice of Ramuh. "Farewell for now."

He didn't speak again after that. Once we'd all concluded that there was nothing more to do, we turned to make our way back through the cave. I could see the sky through the opening at the top of the wall, a radiant robin's-egg blue with patches of thin clouds scattered throughout. It was immediately clear that the thunderstorm had passed, that nature had finally given us the go-ahead to continue with our hunt for Deadeye. As I followed my friends out, I took one last look around the little cavern oasis, marveling at how such a simple and humble locale could have housed the power of a god in secret for all these centuries. My thoughts suddenly turned to Cindy, as well as her little debate with the Coernix shopkeeper, and I wondered how the mechanic might react if she ever learned that this place, the long-lost shrine of Ramuh, was real. Perhaps Prompto could take her there on their first date, should it ever come to pass.

I chuckled softly at the thought of that as I followed my friends back through the darkness.

* * *

Tracking Deadeye after our journey through the cave turned out to be a much taller order than it ever had been before. There was no more Catoblepas blood on the ground for us to follow, and any traces of old footprints or the Behemoth's own blood would have been washed away by the thunderstorm a long time ago; there was still the chance of finding new tracks, but we hadn't figured out where to start looking. We considered following the road near the cave entrance just to see where it would lead us, but Ignis pointed out that this course of action could very easily result in us getting even more lost. Prompto repeatedly lamented having left his cell phone back home, if only so he could call us a cab or a Mensch driver to bring us back to the Coernix caravan.

It had taken us close to two hours to reach the shrine of Ramuh and return through the cave entrance, and we figured Deadeye couldn't have gotten too far away in his condition. But we also remembered that he was gradually healing from his physical wounds, even with Ignis's poison eating away at his health, so there was no telling where he could be. The one thing we did know for sure was that we all wanted to take a short break from our trip back through the cave, even though we hadn't encountered any more goblins to fight on our way out. Prompto had remained noticeably quiet that whole time, perhaps to internally process all that we had seen. The others were chatty throughout, expressing their amazement at the cave's supernatural secrets, wondering aloud if there were other places like it, and growing increasingly optimistic about our odds against the Behemoth in round two.

"Incredible, isn't it?" I mused. "Professional archaeologists have been trying to find the shrine of Ramuh for years, and we stumbled across it in less than a week."

"This is probably the best thing that could've happened," said Gladiolus as we took our seats around the remnants of our campfire. "Now all we have to do is find Deadeye, call our new friend Ramuh, and sit back and watch the fireworks."

"You're awfully gung-ho about this all of a sudden," said Ignis. "But it's still far easier said than done. Even if we do find Deadeye, Noctis can't just call Ramuh right out of the gate. His 'most dire hour of need,' remember?"

"Now _there's_ a nice problem to have," Prompto muttered, crossing his arms and leaning back against a rock. "What does that even mean, anyway? Wouldn't everyone have a different standard for that?"

"Fighting Deadeye might be a good place to start," said Gladio.

"You sure about that?" Prompto asked. "We almost got him last time _without_ any divine intervention. If he didn't pull that Flare spell out of his ass, we'd be on our way back to the caravan by now. How do we know Ramuh would consider that _dire_ enough?"

"Maybe it was _supposed_ to happen like that," I suggested. "I mean, Ramuh can see the future, can't he? He must have known we would end up here."

"Great," he said, rolling his eyes. "That makes me feel _so_ much better about being tossed around like a rag doll, almost being roasted alive, and having half a building collapse on top of me."

"Are you okay, man?" I asked.

"Not really," he admitted.

As soon as those words left his mouth, all I could think was _Oh no, here we go._ It was regrettable, really, how I'd suddenly become so paranoid that every time a friend decided to express himself my gut reaction was to start dreading a fight. He didn't seem like he wanted one, but I still had a bad feeling about this conversation. He got up to leave and the rest of us followed suit, and I thought perhaps it wouldn't go much farther than that. We started trudging back down the path toward the road, or rather toward the path we'd taken to find the road so we could pick up the search for Deadeye where we had left off.

"Why does all the cool shit always happen to _you,_ bro?" Prompto continued. "Like, wasn't it enough that you're a prince? That you were born into wealth and privilege and power? That every guy we meet wants to be your friend, and every girl wants to fall in love with you, even though you already have a gorgeous fiancée? And now you have the god of thunder himself at your beck and call? Like, save some for everybody else, _jeez._ "

I could see Ignis and Gladio wanted to respond to that, but I held up a hand to let them know I could handle it.

"Being a prince isn't all sugar and rainbows, Prompto," I said.

"I know that," he said, "but… shit, I'll still take that over the hand I got dealt."

"Look, if _you_ want to be the one who summons Ramuh, you'll have to take it up with him."

"It's not about that," he said. "Well, it kind of _is_ about that, but… you know, not _just_ that. I just want to feel like I'm doing something _cool_ and _important_ with my life, you know?"

"You could have," Ignis cut in. "You've been friends with us for years, Prompto. You could have used your connections to do anything you wanted, and what did you do instead? You became _Quicksilver._ "

"Yeah, I did," Prompto said with a scowl. "So maybe I should just stop running from that. Maybe I should just own up to it and turn myself in to the cops. Would that make you happy?"

We crossed the road to the other side of the forest, Prompto's stomping being the loudest footsteps among our party. He didn't even bother checking for oncoming traffic, not that there was ever much to be found in these parts. It made me think back to his ill-advised bet with Gladio a few days earlier, and I briefly wondered if perhaps he'd had a better shot at winning than we had all thought.

"Nobody here _wants_ you to go to jail!" Ignis shouted.

"Since when did _you_ care, Ignis?" Prompto shouted back. "You think I've already forgotten what you said last night? You think I'm _that_ stupid?"

"You're not stupid, Prompto," Ignis said, trying to calm himself down to disrupt the growing sense of déjà vu. "But you _are_ smart enough to know better. You could have figured something out. And even if you didn't, you still had us. I know I was only one call away, and that had you asked for my help I never would have rejected you. So how the hell did we end up here?"

Things to know about Ignis: when he's busy with schoolwork or his job, he gets in a zone where he'll focus on that above all else. On one hand, it's great for productivity and has helped him reach an esteemed position in the government of Lucis at an exceptionally young age. But on the other hand, he tends to disconnect from social circles when he has work to do, and as a result likely won't be up to speed on current events or gossip. Around the time Prompto had returned to Insomnia to tell me about his Quicksilver burglaries, Ignis had been finishing his studies in political science and preparing for his final exams. After he was finished with those (his test scores and grade point average were at the top of his class), my father had offered him a job with the advisory board. That's when the news outlets started reporting on the content of his social media profiles and questioning his credentials, if not outright accusing him of benefiting from having friends in high places. And since Prompto didn't want anyone but me to know he was Quicksilver, his motives were also kept secret from Ignis for fear of him putting two and two together.

Of course, now that Ignis knew the truth, all bets were off.

"You want to know _why_ I started this stupid Quicksilver shit in the first place?" Prompto asked, shooting a glare at Ignis. "I did it because my family lost _everything_ when the economy collapsed in Solheim. And we weren't the only ones. There were a lot of people just like my dad who got suckered into bad loans with bullshit artist banks."

He turned away from Ignis and shuffled over to a large rock under a tree branch that was almost as tall as he was. It seemed dry enough to sit on, so he tried to climb up. But he tweaked a muscle in his shoulder and let out a hushed "ow" as he lifted himself, so he dropped back down and we kept walking.

"That was a bad idea," he continued, rubbing his shoulder and glancing down at his feet as he walked. "Anyway, after everything went to shit the people responsible didn't have to go to jail. They didn't even have to lose their damn jobs. Instead they got boatloads of money from the government to keep their doors open because they were 'too big to fail.'" He used sarcastic air quotes around that last bit, shaking his head in frustration. "Funny, nobody ever came to the rescue with bailout money for my family. I guess we just never got the memo that said we were 'too small to succeed.'"

He ran his hands along the sides of his head and joined them at the nape of his neck, letting out a dejected sigh as he did so.

"So yeah, that kind of pissed me off," he went on. "I wanted to get back at them somehow. I figured if the system wouldn't punish these assholes, then I'd do it myself. And this was the only thing I thought of that I could actually do, so I did it." He looked back over at us with a little chuckle. "You guys remember how when we were kids you always made me sneak down to the kitchen to steal a few extra snacks and nobody ever caught me? It was kind of like that, only by then I was even better at it."

"Is that why you kept doing it?" asked Gladiolus.

"Sort of," Prompto admitted. "But then I'd go out for coffee or something and overhear people talking about Quicksilver, saying 'thank God someone _finally_ fought back against the pricks who screwed us all over.' And it felt really good. _That's_ why I kept doing it." He sighed again and slowed his pace, placing his hands on his hips. "And then when I started feeling the heat from the cops and feds, I could've turned myself in and stood up for something I believed in. But instead I ran like hell… and dragged all _you_ guys into this shit." He laughed at himself, softly and bitterly. "Some champion of the little guy I turned out to be. Some _friend_ I turned out to be."

"Was there really no other way?" Ignis asked. "You could have gotten a decent job, helped pay off your family's debts, and—"

"Like what?" Prompto interrupted. "I never got to finish school 'cause my family couldn't afford it anymore. And even if I did, what good would _that_ do? I'm not smart like you, Ignis. I'm not tough like Gladio. And I'm sure as hell not rich and powerful and _special_ like Noct. It's why Ramuh didn't choose me, it's why women don't want me…"

He stopped for a moment and turned to look back at all of us.

"Honestly, it's why sometimes I'm kind of surprised you guys still want me around," he said, and then he focused his attention on Ignis. "So what should I have done instead, Mr. Advisor? Go ahead. _Advise_ me."

Ignis locked eyes with him for a moment, and I wondered if he was going to launch into a lecture about all the things Prompto could and should have done instead of the path he'd chosen. But he said nothing, and his expression softened as he acknowledged the desperation in Prompto's situation. My father told me once that crime is rarely as black and white as the media would have you believe, and while we can't just let people off the hook because they felt like they had nowhere else to turn, we must remain hopeful for their rehabilitation and redemption. I wondered if Ignis remembered that too.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Believe it or not, I don't have all the answers. It's one of the downsides of being human."

Prompto snickered at that, and he loosened up a bit. "I guess I should have asked Ramuh when I had the chance, huh?" he said.

"Indeed," Ignis answered with an amused smirk. "A real missed opportunity, that."

"Tell me about it. So, um… about last night—"

"Yes, about last night," Ignis cut in, and he let out a sigh in preparation for what he had to say. "I apologize. I completely lost my composure, and… well, words were said that should not have been said."

"Not exactly," said Prompto. "I guess I deserved _some_ of that. I'm sorry too – I really should have handled this shit better. Or better yet, I shouldn't have done it."

"All right then!" Gladiolus called over. "I guess that means we can get back to finding Deadeye now that you guys have decided to not kill each other. And that's great news, because look at this!"

Apparently Gladio had snuck off once it became clear that things wouldn't come to blows between Ignis and Prompto this time. He'd ventured ahead down the hill, the one we'd climbed before we had found the cave. We caught up with him and found a trail of fallen trees and branches carved through the woods. The thunderstorm that had hit this area was strong, but the winds weren't strong enough to take down some of those trees. There weren't any signs of human activity there either – no clean-cut timber to be found; the edges of every severed trunk or branch were jagged and splintered.

"This had to have been done by an animal," said Gladio, crouching and carefully investigating a broken tree trunk to avoid getting any splinters in his fingers. "And not just any animal either. It had to be really big and really strong."

"Well, that's something," I said. "But we were just running around in a cave for the last two hours. How do we know there wasn't some other big animal passing through here in the meantime?"

"We don't," he replied. "But we know Deadeye has been around here, so this is the only lead we have right now."

"If it really was Deadeye," I asked, "then how did we miss this before?"

"Too busy trying to find shelter from the storm, I guess."

He stood upright and limbered up his muscles a bit before turning to follow the path, which was littered with ruined foliage as far as the eye could see. The storm had washed away any tracks that might have been left behind, but with no other possible sign of the Behemoth, our next move was pretty obvious.

"I don't know about you guys," Gladiolus declared, "but I've had enough of the great outdoors for a while. Let's finish this."

And with that, we all followed him along this new trail.

* * *

"I cannot wait for this to be over," Gladio muttered.

None of us disagreed with him. The Behemoth's trail had run cold over the past few hours, leading us only to a clearing with no obvious signs of his presence. About all we'd gained from this latest leg of our journey was experience fighting some uncommonly ornery Garulas, wild animals about the size of a small moving truck that resemble hairy elephants with shorter trunks and more tusks. We did have a great view of the sun beginning to set behind more of the Duscae arches though. It even included an astral shard somewhere far off in the distance, the giant crystal calmly generating its energy; if I remember correctly, it's the source of all power for the resort town of Lestallum.

We had just about reached the point where we were ready to start looking around for campsites. It wasn't only a search for a place to spend the night, but also to see if we could find any people. Maybe we'd catch a lucky break and stumble across someone who knew exactly where we were and where to find… well, _anything,_ but mostly where to find Deadeye, or at least the way back to Coernix Station. Perhaps this hypothetical party might even have an extra map they'd be willing to spare.

And as long as I was dreaming, I figured, perhaps the Behemoth would drop dead from Ignis's poison and his horn would magically drop out of the sky into our hands. It seemed about as likely as any of that other stuff happening. Then again, one day earlier we had similar (if not even worse) odds of finding Ramuh.

"You don't suppose he could have returned to the construction site, do you?" I suggested.

"That would be our luck," Prompto said, wiping sweat from his brow. "If it turns out Deadeye went back to his lair after all this time, I swear to God I will _break_ something."

Gladiolus led us to the nearest tree so we could all get some shade. "I remember the wanted poster said he has a handful of favorite hangouts within a few miles of his lair. Too bad I can't remember where any of them are."

"So how far do you think we are from the construction site now?" asked Ignis.

"I don't know," Gladio said with a groan. "You want me to roll out some measuring tape?"

"I'm just saying it might not be a bad place to start."

"Why would he want to go back there? Behemoths are pretty smart. He knows that we know where it is."

"Whatever," Ignis muttered. "You're the expert hunter here. You lead the way."

"Thanks for granting your permission, Ignis."

"Shut up."

And with that, we set off into the forest again. For a while the foliage was thicker there than it had been in the last wooded area we passed through, making it more difficult to see what was around us. With a beast as big as Deadeye or a Catoblepas it wouldn't have mattered, but smaller monsters would have been able to sneak up on us quite easily, so we still had to stay on guard. After all we'd been through the past few days, there was no way we would let ourselves be taken out by something we'd typically treat as a warm-up for tougher foes. Still, the weather had turned out to be quite pleasant in the aftermath of the thunderstorm, and I found myself enjoying the snapping of twigs and crunching of leaves beneath my feet, and the faint scent of pine in the air.

But then, as the bushes and trees began thinning out some more, I spotted something on my left. It was a small creature that seemed to be trying to camouflage itself, its dark skin blending well with the shadows from the trees but not so much with the green bushes nearby. Its sharp tusks and long tail were a dead giveaway: we were being watched by a Sabertusk. I wondered how long it had been following us, but I supposed it didn't really matter. I raised my arm to summon my falchion—

And then Prompto took a shot at something to his right, something I couldn't even see, and the Sabertusk lunged ahead toward me. I slashed at it and took it down quickly while Gladiolus had spotted whatever Prompto was shooting at and summoned his own sword. Then I was taken by surprise when another Sabertusk came charging out of the bushes, and Ignis threw a knife to strike it down before it could reach me.

"Thanks," I said, retrieving the knife for him. "Damn Sabertusk showed up out of nowhere. That's what I get for not paying attention, I guess."

"Don't mention it," he said. "Prompto, what did you see over there?"

"Looks like another one," Prompto reported, having weaved around a few bushes to see what he'd just shot at. "Good thing these guys go down easy, huh?"

I was about to answer that question, but then I heard something behind us. It was a low rumbling sound, something vocal, something that sounded angry, like a dog having spotted a stranger intruding on their territory.

Then I heard another one just like that. And soon a third and a fourth and a fifth had joined the chorus, coming from all directions, yet it was hard to tell exactly where the sounds were coming from.

"You guys hear that?" asked Gladiolus, gripping his sword and backing away from the source of the growling as a sixth made its presence known.

"Kind of hard to ignore," I said. "What do you say we get out of dodge?"

"We should have been gone already. Get moving."

We disarmed and took off running through the woods as fast as we could with a horde of Sabertusks hot on our tails as they burst forth from their hiding places. I ran ahead of everyone else, saving my warps for emergency situations, and if I turned my head to the right a little I could see Prompto nipping at my heels. I could hear the stampeding monsters behind us growing louder as more of them showed up and followed the crowd.

There was no carved-out path ahead of us. We just kept running straight as much as possible, swerving to avoid trees and leaping over logs as they appeared in our way. I called out each obstacle as I spotted them.

"Shit!" I could hear Gladio shout. "They're gaining on you, Ignis!"

I slowed down to look back and he was right – Ignis was lagging behind. It was those damn dress shoes he always insisted on wearing, slowing him down. They weren't even designed for running on pavement, let alone through a forest.

"If you're standing behind me, you'd better move!" I shouted.

I immediately turned around and threw a Fire spell at the first Sabertusk in my sights. The blast killed off a couple and knocked a few others off balance, giving me time to grab Ignis and warp us both ahead of the others.

"Oh my God," Prompto cried out as we ran, "they're gonna get us, dude! We're gonna die! I'm gonna die, and my epitaph's gonna read _Here lies Prompto Argentum – he lacked the good sense to stay the hell out of the woods!_ "

"Shut up and keep running!" Gladiolus ordered.

We sprinted onward, though I wasn't sure how much longer our bodies could keep going. I knew I was coming dangerously close to my limit. The Fire spell I'd cast had given us some breathing room, but the Sabertusks weren't giving up. There had to be at least a dozen of them chasing us.

The ground then became rockier as we splashed through a skinny brook that was barely ankle-deep, and the cold water sent a jolt through my system. I lunged forward to get away from the water and I caught a small stone with the wrong part of my foot. I stumbled and staggered and was about to topple over, the snarls of the Sabertusks still filling my ears.

Suddenly a powerful hand reached out to grab me. It was Gladiolus, gripping my arm and keeping me upright as I regained my balance. Just another day at the office for my bodyguard.

But there was no time to thank him. The Sabertusks were starting to gain on us, so I grabbed his arm in return and warped again to keep up with Ignis and Prompto.

"I will _never_ get used to that!" Gladio shouted.

The forest started thinning out a little more, giving us more room to run. It also gave the Sabertusks room to spread out, so they did. I wondered if they were trying to trap us, but it looked like we were approaching a wide-open field. I could see a mountain looming in the distance, completely covered with trees, and the setting sun painting the overhead canvas with red and orange hues as the stars began to poke through the darkening sky to the east. To my knowledge, we were nowhere near a safe and proper campground, and much of the most dangerous wildlife in Duscae was nocturnal. Not that any of this mattered for the time being – we still had an army of Sabertusks to deal with first.

"I should've stayed at the caravan," lamented Prompto, who was clearly running on fumes at this point. "I could have been catching up on _Existence Is Bizarre_. Now I'll never know how season four ends!"

"The blue-haired girl gets shot in the face by one of the teachers!" shouted Ignis.

"Man, I didn't say you could _spoil_ it!"

"We're about to go down a hill!" I called out. "Everyone watch your step!"

Ignis probably slowed down the most, his dress shoes slipping a bit on the grass. I watched my feet the whole way down for fear of tripping again. The hill wasn't very steep, but Prompto nearly lost his footing anyway until he reduced his strides to nearly a stutter-step. He kept looking behind him at the Sabertusks and firing stray shots just to see if he could hit anything – for the most part, he was hitting trees. We hurried awkwardly all the way down the hill to the open field at the bottom. That was when Prompto finally came to a stop and bent forward with his hands on his knees, panting heavily. The rest of us stopped running once we realized we were about to leave him behind.

"What the hell are you doing?" I said, taking the chance to catch my breath. "We have to keep moving!"

"I'm all out of gas, guys!" he said. "You keep running. I'll hold them off!"

"Are you crazy? You won't even last a _minute_ taking all these guys on by yourself!"

"Hey," he answered, "this is what I get for blowing your engine, bro. If you'd been the one driving that day, none of this would have happened!"

"Prompto, that coin toss was _my_ idea!" I shouted. "And hunting down Deadeye was my idea! Hell, taking the car in the first place was my idea!"

It was true, of course. Back when the trip to Altissia was first being planned, we were supposed to get there via airship. Once we were there, we could have spent a few days seeing the sights (of which there are many) before it was time to get down to business with Luna. Obviously that never came to pass because I suggested jumping in the Regalia and going exploring for a little while. It was such a stupid decision on my part, and not only because the airfare would have been significantly cheaper in retrospect.

Altissia is a city built upon a series of waterfalls – not _near_ them, and not _around_ them, the entire city is literally built _on_ the water. No, I don't know how they pulled that off; and no, I don't think I could understand even if I spent the next five years studying nothing but architecture and hydraulics 24 hours a day. It is a staggering technological achievement and a jaw-droppingly beautiful city, and it is also completely inaccessible via ground transportation. In any other city you have to hail a taxi or wait for a bus or train if you want to go anywhere, but in Altissia you get around on foot or via gondola unless you're crazy enough to swim somewhere. I remember reading a news story about a guy who tried to swim from his hotel to some café; I won't go into the gory details, but that café's main entrance now features a very lovely plaque erected in his memory.

It's funny, isn't it, how a decision that seems to make perfect sense in the moment can go so horribly wrong once your plans are carried out.

"So if anyone here wants to play the blame game," I finished, "they'd better start with me."

"Hey guys," said Gladiolus, "I hate to interrupt your little self-pity contest, but the Sabertusks aren't chasing us anymore."

"Please tell me it's because we lost them a couple hundred yards ago and we've been running from nothing this whole time," said Ignis.

"Not exactly."

I turned around and looked up the hill at the Sabertusks. They had apparently sensed that we were fatigued and slowed their pace to a near crawl down the hill. Then, just before I could ask Gladio what the hell was going on, one of them threw its head back and let out a loud high-pitched roar, as if signaling something to the others.

My hunch was right. As soon as the roar sounded, more Sabertusks leapt from the trees and joined the group. I couldn't tell how many there were in total now – maybe somewhere around twenty of them. So now we were outnumbered _five_ to one instead of three to one, because I guess the deck just wasn't stacked against us badly enough.

"Looks like they brought the whole damn pack," said Gladiolus.

"Oh, to hell with it," muttered Ignis as he pulled out his knives. "If they're going to catch us anyway, we might as well fight back."

"This is gonna suck," said Prompto, drawing his guns and standing upright.

I surveyed the group of Sabertusks, trying to determine where to strike first and what to use. Most of them were clustered in the middle, with a few outliers on the sides in case anyone tried to get away. My typical weapon of choice was the falchion, but it didn't quite have enough range to potentially hit multiple targets at once. Luckily, I knew something that did, so I summoned a long spear instead and waffled over which spell to cast first.

"Any volunteers want to make the first move?" I asked.

"Believe me, I'd love to do the honors," said Ignis, and a smirk crossed his face as an idea occurred to him. "But only _you_ can start forest fires."

"Good idea."

And with that, I launched a Fire spell into the heart of that cluster of Sabertusks. Just like before, a few of them were taken out right away and the others were bowled over by the blast. The ones on either side of the cluster came charging in, and the battle was on.

Prompto's guns started going off next, peppering the rushing beasts with bullets to slow them down. Meanwhile I spotted Gladio snaring one out of the air with his bare hand and tossing it back toward the fire, which had caught on some brush plants on the side of the hill and was slowly growing. The Sabertusk's claws left a nasty gash on his throwing arm, but Ignis tossed a Potion over to help mend it.

Somewhere far away I could hear something rumbling, but I assumed it was merely the remnants of the thunderstorm still raging.

I took a swing at about three or four monsters with my spear, secretly being thankful that they didn't attack all at once. They were smart enough to come after us in a large pack, but that was clearly the extent of their strategic thinking. Instead they came in waves; every time one among their ranks fell, another was quick to replace it.

Just then I heard Prompto shouting something and glanced in his general direction. One of the Sabertusks had knocked him over and was poised to pounce again. My eyes went wide as I prepared to warp—

And then Ignis saved me the trouble. He threw a knife straight through the monster's temple, killing it instantly. Prompto quickly returned the favor by shooting one that was coming up behind Ignis.

"There are too many of these damn things!" Gladio shouted, taking another mighty hack with his greatsword.

"Just stay alert!" I shouted, and I threw another Fire spell at a pair of Sabertusks I spotted trying to circle our party when we weren't looking.

All the while, the distant rumbling was growing louder. It was hard to focus on it since we were in the middle of a fight, but it had become too loud to ignore.

"What the hell is that noise?" asked Prompto, loading another magazine into his gun.

"We'll probably have to fight a giant alpha Sabertusk now," said Ignis.

Gladiolus looked away from the fight toward the source of the rumbling, and his jaw began to drop.

"That's no alpha," he said.

The rumbling sound wasn't thunder. It was the galloping of a huge wild animal, charging around looking for something to kill.

Purple skin. Thick hairy mane. Massive horns. Long sharp teeth. And only one eye.

It was Deadeye. We'd been trying to find this bastard again all day, and now he was the one finding us.

"Oh, great," I groaned. " _Now_ he decides to show up."

The others then spotted him too, and they did not seem any happier to be reunited with this old friend of ours. I cast another Fire spell to drive away the Sabertusks that ran over in hopes of catching us off guard.

"Seriously," said Prompto, "can we just get a do-over on this whole day?"

Once the Sabertusks saw Deadeye approaching, confusion grew among their pack. Most of them shifted focus away from us and began going after the Behemoth, swarming around him and biting at his feet or whipping their long tails at him. Some of them stuck around to keep fighting us. A couple of them turned tail and fled, having presumably developed common sense.

That's not to say that the ones fighting us had none, though. They must have noticed that thanks to my spear attacks and spell casting, I had emerged as the most dangerous member of our party. And they acted accordingly – some of them started ganging up on me.

One of them whipped its tail at my face. I blocked it with my right arm at the last second, but it left a bad cut along my forearm.

Another one lunged at me and snapped at me with its jaws. I backed away awkwardly, jabbing at it with my spear, but I was off balance. Prompto slowed it down with a well-placed shot, but I kept stumbling backwards until I fell on the damp grass.

And that was when I felt a searing pain stabbing into my left ankle as a Sabertusk sank its fangs into it.

"Shit!" Ignis shouted. "We've got a man down!"

I hollered and tried to shake it off my ankle, but its jaws held firm. So I started kicking it in the face over and over trying to loosen it—

And then a big muscular blur came charging in out of nowhere and tackled the Sabertusk. Gladiolus pinned it to the ground as Prompto kept firing at the other two monsters and Ignis cast a Cure spell on me, making my bitten ankle feel a lot better almost instantly. Then Gladio grabbed a nearby stone and started smashing it repeatedly into the Sabertusk's skull, cursing at it as he pulverized it.

Meanwhile Deadeye had made quick work of the group that went after him. When I looked over to see what he was doing, there were only two Sabertusks remaining. He stomped hard on the first one, crushing it like a bug, snapping its bones like twigs beneath his foot. The last one tried to run, but Deadeye lowered his head and snatched it up in his teeth. Then he lifted the Sabertusk in the air and flung it through the air until it smacked against a tree trunk, leaving a big red stain behind as it dropped to the ground.

The Behemoth threw its head back and roared triumphantly once it took out that last Sabertusk. But he wasn't finished just yet. He turned his head and stared right at me with that one good eye of his as I rose to my feet, eager to finish us off once and for all, and angry that he hadn't done it last time.

The two remaining Sabertusks took the chance to run off. Prompto raised his gun to take some parting shots, but Ignis grabbed him by the wrist and stopped him.

"Let them go," he said. "Save your ammo for _him_."

As if on cue, the Behemoth came charging in our direction, baring his teeth and snarling at us all the way. I switched back to my falchion and cast a Thunder spell to slow him down a bit, and as soon as the bolt struck we split up to mount our attack.

I cast another Thunder spell to give Gladio enough time to get close, and he started slashing away at Deadeye's side with his greatsword. Ignis swooped around the other side, jabbing at the monster's hind legs. And Prompto darted all over the field, emptying clip after clip in the general direction of Deadeye's head.

"Let's make you blind in _both_ eyes, you big ugly bastard!" he shouted.

Deadeye hadn't learned any new attacks since the last time we'd met, which I suppose was something of a relief. But he seemed different than before – he moved with more energy, attacked with more power. And I didn't want to ask the question, but somehow I felt like I knew why: Ignis's poison must have worn off somehow, or perhaps he'd healed himself enough that it would no longer be a factor.

He swatted at me with his paw and struck me in the back as I tried to dodge it. It hurt, but it could have been much worse had I been standing still. The attack sent me tumbling on the grass for what was probably a few dozen feet, and I took another blow to the shoulder I'd injured when I jumped off his back before. My right knee came down hard, possibly hard enough to bruise, and it throbbed as I lay there on the ground. I was slow getting up, but at least I could still get up.

"Noctis, are you all right?" Ignis called.

"I'll be fine!"

"Hey Noct!" shouted Gladiolus, stabbing at Deadeye's shoulder. "If this shit goes south, run like hell! We'll hold him off as long as we can!"

Just then I saw Deadeye preparing to swing his horn at Gladio. I clenched my fist in anger and started charging up another Thunder spell.

"And leave you guys for dead?" I shouted back, and I cast the spell in time to thwart Deadeye's attack. "Fuck that!"

The spell struck the Behemoth in the head just as Prompto took another shot at his face, and he roared with pain – but mostly with anger. And he reacted with a flurry of absolutely furious attacks.

He spotted Prompto in front of him and began pounding the ground with all his might. It threw us all off balance more and more with each new shockwave until finally Prompto fell, twisting his ankle in the process. Sensing an opportunity to reduce our party to three, he began stepping forward—

And then Gladiolus stabbed him in the leg, interrupting his progress.

But this only served to piss Deadeye off even more. He quickly swung his horn back down, and I wasn't quick enough to interrupt him this time. The horn struck Gladio right in the chest and sent him about fifteen feet through the air until he hit the ground hard near a burning brush plant.

With two of our friends now out of commission, Ignis and I shared a quick look. We nodded in silent agreement, and I went around Deadeye's front to help Prompto while he circled around the back to cast Cure spells on Gladio. I turned and started limping in Prompto's direction, but I didn't get very far before I heard Ignis cry out in pain. I looked back to see what had happened and learned that Deadeye had struck Ignis with his tail, leaving him face down on the ground. He was still breathing, but he wasn't moving.

Finally, the Behemoth turned his attention to me. He pounded the ground again, as if I didn't have enough trouble staying upright. Then, as I continued stumbling on my one good leg, he swung his 25,000-gil horn down at me. I heard a loud _smack_ and felt a sharp pain rushing all through my body as the horn collided with my back. I flew through the air for I don't know how long, screaming the whole way, and I shielded my head with my arms just before gravity took hold and pulled me back down to the earth. The impact sent me rolling through the grass again until my body ran out of momentum, and I lay still, throbbing everywhere, and feeling on the brink of losing consciousness. And I was in such terrible pain that for a moment I actually would have welcomed it.

But then Deadeye roared once more, celebrating his apparent victory over us. The sound of it kept me tied to the real world, and with each passing second my rage at this monster began to overpower the pain in my body. And all of a sudden I recalled the voice of a wise old man echoing in a cave: _I shall henceforth offer my aid in your most dire hour of need._

That's right. This wasn't over yet. Not by a long shot.

I rolled onto my stomach and dug my fingers into the turf with a white-knuckle grip. Then, slowly but surely, I began to push myself back up, my shoulder aching all the way and my heavy panting interrupted only by violent coughs. Then I put one foot firmly on the ground, and then the other.

Once I was standing again I could hear the Behemoth starting to walk away, and I could see him going as I turned to face him one more time. I didn't think it was possible, but this angered me even more. He was leaving us for dead again, just as he had left so many others who had tried and failed to hunt him down, and just as he'd left people like the flower girl who had innocently wandered into his midst.

Enough was enough. Deadeye had terrorized the people of Duscae, residents and tourists alike, for far too long. And now it was time to make him pay.

"Hey!" I called after him. "Leaving so soon? I'm still here!"

My voice caught his attention, and he slowly turned his head around to look back at me with his one good eye, snarling and baring his teeth. But I had no reason to fear him anymore, not with the ace up my sleeve about to be played.

"What the hell are you doing, bro?" Prompto hollered.

"Where do you think _you're_ going, Deadeye?" I shouted. "I'm not finished with you yet!"

"Noctis," Ignis croaked, "are you insane?"

The Behemoth had turned all the way around to face me now, and he crept forward as if thinking about how he wanted to finish me off. Meanwhile, overhead the sky grew darker from something other than the sunset. Thick gray clouds began swirling around, and electric bolts shot out from one cloud to the next.

"Holy shit," Gladiolus said from his landing spot near the brush.

The wind began to pick up, blowing forceful gusts all around. And Deadeye looked up at the sky in utter bewilderment, having never witnessed such a sudden and powerful change in the weather in all his life.

"That's right!" I yelled over to the monster, still limping forward and clutching my injured shoulder. "I've still got one more _friend_ I'd like you to meet!"

Deadeye looked back down from the sky and met my gaze, the angry expression now returned to his face. He roared once more and dug his claws into the ground as if preparing to charge straight at me.

But I wasn't about to give him that chance.

"RAMUH!" I shouted, raising my right hand to the heavens in a fist. "I SUMMON YOU!"

And then, just as Deadeye lunged forward for one last attack, a gigantic human hand reached down from the sky. The fingers gently wrapped around me, and the hand lifted me hundreds – no, probably more like _thousands_ – of feet into the air, reducing Deadeye and my friends to tiny specks.

The hand belonged to an old man the size of a mountain, and in his other hand he carried a staff that was nearly as tall as he was. His long white beard dwarfed even the tallest skyscrapers mankind had ever built. His bulky robe extended all the way down to the ground and likely would have been big enough to blanket an entire suburban neighborhood back in Insomnia. I recognized him immediately as a far larger incarnation of the man we had met in the cave just a few hours ago. This, I realized, was the true form of the Lord of Thunder, and I felt utterly powerless and insignificant in the presence of such majesty.

Once he had me firmly in hand and safely out of harm's way, Ramuh began to ascend into the air, up among the clouds that had heralded his arrival. He lifted his staff and allowed the lightning to strike its figurehead, sending a jolt of purple electric energy coursing through the staff from top to bottom. Then he threw the staff like a javelin directly into the ground.

The effect of that impact was instantaneous. Giant purple ripples burst forth from the staff as far as the eye could see as all of the collected Thunder power incinerated everything around it – trees, bushes, grass, and of course monsters. A vortex of clouds circled the point of impact, lifting chunks of earth into the sky, and then quickly dissipated, leaving behind nothing but cinders. And with his Judgment Bolt attack complete, Ramuh slowly lowered me back to the ground, placing me right beside his mighty staff.

In spite of the powerful blast, none of my friends had been harmed by Ramuh's magic. Deadeye, on the other hand, hadn't been so fortunate; he was lying on his side not far from the staff's landing point, completely motionless. And when I looked up at the sky, I could see Ramuh standing there looking down on us. I felt like I should say something, but I wasn't sure how to put my feelings into words aside from a Prompto-esque "holy shit, that was amazing."

"Lord Ramuh… that was _incredible_ ," I finally said. "Thank you."

The thunder god offered a simple nod of his head. "This is the power of the Judgment Bolt," he said. "Use it wisely, young prince, and it will serve you well. Good luck."

Ramuh clasped his hands and bowed his head. His body flashed a bright purple color and dissolved into small shiny particles that soon flickered and disappeared. His departure had been as swift as his arrival.

The four of us stood in awe of what we had seen for a moment; none of us had ever witnessed anything like it, so we didn't know what to expect, but the fact that such power was now in our corner was astonishing. Our world is one that's full of magic, and the powers that we human beings can learn are quite formidable in their own right, but this had been on a level I had once thought inconceivable. Perhaps that's why such magical power can only be wielded by an Archaean.

"Holy _shit_ , Noctis," Prompto finally said. "That was either the coolest thing I've ever seen you do… or the most _terrifying._ "

"I think I'm leaning toward the former," I joked.

Well, perhaps I wasn't entirely joking. Yes, the Archaeans clearly possessed the sort of power that could be devastating to our world if it ever fell into the wrong hands. And they understood that better than any human ever could; clearly, there was a reason they would only lend their abilities to those whom they deemed worthy. It was actually kind of flattering, to be honest. If I'm considered good enough to call upon the powers of the gods themselves, then maybe I do have what it takes to be a good king after all.

"You guys think that was enough to finally take Deadeye out?" I asked.

"Are you kidding?" said Gladiolus. "That was pure overkill. It almost made me feel sorry for Deadeye – _almost._ "

We took some time to heal ourselves after our encounter with the Behemoth and the Sabertusk pack. Once we were all patched up, we approached Deadeye to investigate him further. He was very obviously dead, his body severely burned from Ramuh's magic, his open wounds from our fight marked by dried blood, and most importantly his horns conveniently positioned for the taking. Now we found ourselves with a new (but very welcome, given the alternative) problem on our hands.

"So how do we cut his horn off?" asked Ignis.

"With our swords, bro," said Prompto. "Behemoth horns are kind of like rhinoceros horns. They're made from the same stuff as our hair and fingernails. It shouldn't take too long."

"How the hell did you know that?" asked Gladiolus.

"Oh, come on, guys," said Prompto. "Am I seriously the only one here who actually _read_ that Duscae travel guide?"

"Well, there's no need to worry about any wildlife interfering with the return trip," Ignis said. "I think we've just obliterated every ecosystem within a five-mile radius." He paused to clean off his glasses and started chuckling to himself. "Shall we salt the earth to finish the job?"

We all had a good laugh at that. And so we gathered around the smoldering remains of what was once the most feared monster in the entire Duscae wilderness, excited and very much relieved that our mission had finally been accomplished. We could get back to worrying about that whole "still being lost in the forest" thing when the proper time came.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Well, so much for getting this chapter finished in time for that big "Uncovered" event (though there is a reference to it here). Hooray for self-imposed deadlines…

The chapter title is from "1979" by the Smashing Pumpkins (in honor of the year _Versus XIII_ was first announced, _durr-hurr-hurr_ ). The author's note quote is from "Cardinals" by the Wonder Years, where the lead singer laments his self-perceived failure to help a friend struggling with depression and addiction. The discussion about projects taking over a decade to finish includes shout-outs to _Duke Nukem Forever_ and the Guns N' Roses album _Chinese Democracy_. The bit about "holographic technology that doesn't exist yet" came from something the Cincinnati Bengals have actually done (I learned that from John Oliver). Ignis kills two goblins with the Knife Throw Takedown from _Far Cry 3_ and gets Smokey Bear's catchphrase wrong. Noctis name-checks Jay-Z's "99 Problems" (sort of) shortly before the guys chat about _Romeo & Juliet_. "Crossroads of infinity" came from an old _Fantastic Four_ comic. The bit with the dumb Altissian swimmer was inspired by the Darwin Awards. And of course there's the aforementioned _Life Is Strange_ spoiler. Also, the song itself is never referred to, but I had the first two minutes of "The Birth and Death of the Day" by Explosions In The Sky playing in my head when I wrote the "crossroads of infinity" scene.

Five down, one to go! My new self-imposed deadline: get this thing done before _Final Fantasy XV_ comes out! Well, okay, that was _always_ my self-imposed deadline, but now I can put an actual date on that!


	6. Never Should Have Left New Jersey

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own _Final Fantasy XV_ , its characters, or any other intellectual property belonging to Square Enix. Nor do I own any other pieces of pop culture that I reference here.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** "We promised the world we'd tame it. What were we hoping for?"

Here we go, folks – time for the last chapter! And I hope you've all carved out a nice long empty chunk of your schedule.

* * *

 **6** _i want to realize too late i never should have left new jersey_

* * *

If there was one upside to our recently completed and once thought impossible hunt for Deadeye, it was this: as long as he was still out there somewhere, it didn't matter that we had no idea where we were because we needed to stay out in the wilderness anyway. But with the Behemoth dead and his horn now safely in our possession, switching from one set of hands to another whenever someone grew weary of carrying it, the time had come for us to worry about finding some way back to the Coernix station and the car that awaited us there. So we trudged onward through the forest, dealing with a small amount of resistance from hostile wildlife from time to time, but never anything too serious. The most pressing matter at hand was where we could spend the fast-approaching night, as we hadn't come across a proper campsite since we'd set out that morning in pursuit of Deadeye. We could have conceivably set up camp just about anywhere, but the whole reason the designated campsites were designated like so in the first place was because they were the safest parts of the woods.

There was also an ever-increasing concern about our ever-diminishing food supply. I was actually surprised that the food we'd packed had somehow lasted as long as it did, but by the time we'd finally taken down Deadeye we were down to bread, some energy bars, a few sticks of beef jerky, and a big bag of trail mix. We were fortunate to have Gladio in our party as he was the only one with actual hunting skills and who knew how to field dress a fresh kill, but the use of this particular set of skills was something I personally considered a last resort. I guess you could say I'm one of those people who would rather not know how the sausage is made.

Still, as we ventured onward in search of this elusive campsite, I found myself wishing I could barge into the nearest fast food restaurant and stuff myself with burgers and fries – well, after picking the vegetables off the burgers, of course. I've never been all that fond of vegetables, yet restaurants insist on cramming a multitude of them into every sandwich on their respective menus. That's why one day, after returning a burger to the umpteenth kitchen staff that couldn't just give me beef on a bun like I wanted, I started giving my toppings to Ignis instead and smothering my burgers in ketchup to overpower the "special sauce" that I didn't want either. All that being said, I didn't realize how dire our food situation was getting until I started thinking, _Screw it, I'll settle for a salad if it means not being hungry anymore._

While all of these thoughts were making the rounds through my brain (and only serving to make my stomach even unhappier than it already was), we came across a road, having randomly stumbled upon it as per our recent tradition. Much like the road we had come across before, there were no signs to be found as far as we could see in either direction. We couldn't see any cars either, though it wasn't like we were expecting any to pass by. It was merely a long stretch of asphalt with white and yellow lines painted on it, and we were so clueless as to where we were that we weren't even certain whether it was part of the other empty road we'd seen.

"For all the good following this road will do us," Ignis muttered, "we might as well keep going through the woods."

"Maybe if we still had a Behemoth to kill," said Gladiolus. "But I'd rather just follow the road now. It's bound to lead us somewhere."

"It could lead us into being even more lost than we are right now."

"How is that even possible, Ignis?" Gladio countered. "There's no grand sliding scale of lostness. Either you're lost, or you're not."

"Whatever," said Ignis. "But don't come crying to me when we end up closer to that pancake diner we were at the other day instead of the Coernix station."

"At least then we could ask that hot server for a ride," Prompto pointed out. "Man, I really should have gotten her number."

"And risk breaking Cindy's heart?" I teased. "Maybe it's for the best that you didn't."

We followed the road for close to an hour, though it was hard to believe we had made much progress at all. The scenery remained mostly unchanging, all tall trees and short grass, some small hills here and there, and no signs of any human or animal life. We stopped for a moment before going around a curve to rest our feet for a few minutes, aching as they were from all of the walking along the asphalt, which was still a little wet from the storm in small patches. Ignis in particular needed that break the most, lamenting his choice of footwear as he sat on a guardrail post to remove his dress shoes and rub his feet. Once he was finished with his little massage, we ventured on around the curve.

And that was when we saw it – not the station, not the Regalia, and thankfully not that pancake diner. But it was certainly good enough for the time being.

It was a road sign, a big green rectangle with white text on it announcing a destination of some sort. The sign was far enough away that the faded text was a bit hard to make out in the dimming light, but it didn't matter. Finally, we had some kind of clue as to where we were headed. We picked up the pace as we approached the sign, so thrilled to see it that we stopped paying attention to any signs of oncoming traffic. It wasn't as though there were any to be found anyway.

 _CAMPSITE EXIT 2 MILES,_ the sign read. Well, we still didn't know if we were anywhere near the Coernix station, but at least we knew where we could go to spend the night. And that was certainly good enough to cheer up our party for the time being.

"Oh, thank God," Ignis said. "I was beginning to worry that we'd have to set up camp beside the damn road."

"It's about time something went our way," said Gladiolus. "I wonder if there's a word for that feeling you get when your prayers have been answered even though you never actually said any."

"I suppose _happy_ will have to suffice."

"Hey guys," Prompto interjected, "you might want to check this out."

He was standing back at the curve we'd just gone around, looking back the way we had come and mumbling a complaint about not having any binoculars handy. As we went over to see what had caught his interest, I could hear the faint rumbling of an engine somewhere off in the distance, a sound that was heading our way little by little.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Think maybe we could hitch a ride with these guys?" he said, pointing.

I followed Prompto's finger and spotted a large black truck down the road, approaching slowly as if the driver was unsure of their surroundings and was trying to find something. A flag whipped about in the wind on the truck's antenna, and the sight of it made Gladio and Ignis uneasy as soon as they realized what it was. The flag was white with a thick red diagonal stripe, and in the center it featured some sort of golden insignia that I couldn't make out. But it didn't matter. I recognized the color scheme well enough to know where this truck had come from.

"That's the flag of Niflheim," I said.

"And that truck looks like it's military," Gladio observed. He took a look at either side of the road and saw that one side was more densely populated with trees and large bushes, so much so that the ground was almost completely invisible. "Everyone into the woods," he continued, pointing toward the heavier foliage. "Hide in the bushes. Stay as low as you can. _Now._ "

Ignis and Prompto did as they were told, hurrying to the bushes and crouching out of sight. But I was somewhat reluctant to follow these orders. After all, I was running late for my engagement arrangement in Altissia, an occasion that held the Empire's future in the balance as well as that of Lucis, what with Tenebrae being an imperial province. Perhaps there had been a coordinated search effort, with parties sent out by both nations after I had dropped off the grid for too long. And perhaps this was an overly optimistic view of the situation – Niflheim's size had swelled considerably in recent years, having conquered multiple nations that housed the magical powers of crystals, and Lucis was the last nation with a crystal that they hadn't gone after. Still, a part of me held out hope that the Empire truly was interested in a peaceful resolution.

Gladiolus apparently wasn't so optimistic. "Noctis, what are you waiting for?" he called from the side of the road. "Get the hell over here!"

"What if they're here to look for me?"

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of! Now _move_ it!"

He didn't have to repeat himself. I took one last look at the oncoming truck and jogged over to the bushes. I crouched on one knee beside Gladiolus and pushed a branch aside to peek through the gap.

"All right," Gladio whispered, "nobody move, and nobody make any kind of sound until we're in the clear. I think we all know what might happen if you do. Just stay calm, stay low, and do _not_ make me repeat any of that. Got it?"

The rest of us nodded our heads in silent agreement as the big black military truck slowed to a halt near our hiding spot. There came a mechanical grinding noise that sounded like an automated door opening, and sure enough, someone stepped out from the back of the truck. It was a woman, clad in black armor with a reddish trim and a helmet that seemed to leave much of her head visible – I could see her blond hair draped over her shoulders. She looked around behind the truck, and when she turned her head toward our side of the road, I caught a glimpse of her distinctive face mask. While most imperial soldiers were equipped with helmets that shrouded their entire head, a design similar to what knights wore centuries ago, I could actually see this woman's face; the thin bars of the mask made it look as if she was staring out the window of a prison cell. And once I saw that mask, I knew exactly who she was: the captain of the Niflheim army's 86th Airborne Unit, nicknamed "the Dragoon" for her skills in aerial combat.

"What the hell is Aranea Highwind doing out here?" I whispered.

"I have no idea," Ignis replied. "You don't suppose _she_ got lost too, do you?"

"Let's just hope she doesn't ask us for directions," muttered Gladiolus.

Aranea Highwind and her unit aren't technically official Imperial Army personnel; they're actually private mercenaries who take contract assignments. Still, the 86th Airborne ranks among the finest the Niflheim military has to offer. The nature of their work is typically kept very much under wraps until after it's been carried out, whether they're taking part in Niflheim's latest invasion or hunting down an assassination target. Basically, whenever the Empire needs something of the utmost importance done – and done quickly with little room for error – these are the people they call. They're not the sort of people that it would be wise to pick a fight with, even though from what I hear their captain's attitude is less gung-ho "might makes right" nationalism and more "hey, a job is a job."

Aranea began to slowly circle the truck, starting on the passenger side, conducting a short-but-sweet investigation of the area. She found nothing and made her way around the front of the truck to look over our side, giving us our first glimpse at her in full. She was a stunningly attractive young woman, the dark colors and rigid angles of her armor contrasting with her soft and pale feminine features and curves in "all the right places," as the saying goes, emphasizing her ample breasts with a cleavage window in her armor. For any other soldier that much exposed skin might as well have had a bulls-eye painted on it; for this one it came off more like an expression of confidence in her considerable skill, daring opponents to aim for that area so she could block and counter their attacks with ease.

Her pace was much slower on our side, though she didn't look very keen on searching the bushes more thoroughly. As she approached the bushes where we were hiding, I felt my muscles tense up. I started inhaling slowly and deeply through my nose in hopes that she wouldn't hear it. My pulse thumped harder and a cold sweat began to form on my brow. It felt longer than it actually took, as our presence remained undetected and she simply passed us by.

"Well, color me impressed," Aranea finally said to the truck driver once her quick scan of the woods was finished. "You may be the first man in history to witness a mirage in a forest."

"Captain, I _swear_ I saw something!" the driver insisted. "There were a whole bunch of dark figures in the middle of the road!"

"Could've just been local wildlife, you know," she said. "It's hardly worth sending any cyborg units after that."

"Apologies, ma'am," the driver said sheepishly. "I just thought it could have been him."

"No harm done," she replied. "I needed to stretch my muscles anyway. They don't pay me enough to tolerate these trucks – it gets so cramped back there." She paused to stretch her arms straight up in the air. "You don't suppose he's gotten over his cold feet and gone home, do you?"

The four of us hiding in the bushes exchanged concerned looks as soon as she said "cold feet" as we realized why the 86th Airborne had paid Duscae a visit that day.

"It's hard to say, ma'am," the driver replied.

"Such a waste of a handsome face," she continued with a little sigh. "Perhaps a less conventional approach might be in order this time. Do you think if I put a white dress on he'd be able to tell the difference?"

"That depends on whether you're still wearing your helmet, ma'am."

"Well played," she said with a chuckle. "But please stop calling me ma'am. It makes me sound so old."

"Sorry, Captain. Are you sure you don't want to leave any cyborgs here?"

"We just dropped off a squadron about two miles from here," she said. "Our orders, you might recall, were to spread them out evenly. If I sent cyborgs after every seemingly suspicious thing that crossed the road, we would've run out of them hours ago. Let's just keep moving."

She walked back over to the truck and took one last look in our general direction, as if some instinct within her was telling her to be more thorough. But she shrugged it off and went back inside the truck, and soon the truck was out of sight.

"Just what we needed," I muttered once the imperials were gone, "the goddamn Empire breathing down our necks. What a great idea this road trip turned out to be."

"It's not _all_ bad, bro," said Prompto. "Sounds like that Dragoon chick thinks you're hot."

"Oh, come on," I countered. "You know damn well the Empire didn't send her out here to make friends."

"Doesn't mean she isn't open to the idea," he said with a ridiculous grin. "Who knows? Maybe if you play your cards right, she'll show you what she looks like under all that armor."

Ignis rolled his eyes. "That's very classy, Prompto."

"That's just how I roll."

They stepped out to scan the area in case any cyborgs had made their way to our hiding spot. I turned away from them and spotted Gladiolus looking up and down the road in case any more trucks from Niflheim happened to show up out of nowhere. He was back in watchdog mode again, not that his job allowed for his shift to actually end. And it was a good thing, because had we not listened to him we would have been fighting Aranea and God only knows how many cyborg soldiers. She may have been a hired gun, but she was a damn good one. It all felt so underhanded; here Luna and I were trying to marry our way into a peace treaty between our nations, yet they still weren't above sticking the Dragoon on my tail if I disappeared for a few days. I felt like a fool for thinking there was anything but ill intent in all of this. I wondered if my father had ever pulled something like that on anyone. I certainly hoped it wasn't happening to Luna, regardless of whoever was responsible.

"Hey," I said, approaching Gladiolus, "thanks for looking out for us back there."

"Never trust anyone from Niflheim," Gladiolus said. "I always figured Luna was the exception instead of the rule."

"I hope so."

"Hey, come on. You _know_ so. She's always been good to you."

"I guess," I said. "Look, um… I'm sorry for not listening to you right away. I really thought they might have been coming to help us out. I could have gotten us all killed just now."

"Not like it's an easy call for anyone," he replied. "I have to make snap judgments like that all the time – what's a threat and what isn't, or who you can and can't trust. But I guess now you've had a little taste of what it's like to do my job."

"And my father's, I guess, or at least when you put it like that."

I pictured my father's face as he entered my thoughts. He's only about fifty years old, but he looks at least a decade older. I still have faint memories of him with shorter black hair, which he has since grown out, and a thin black moustache and goatee, which have since expanded into a full beard. He started going gray a few years ago, and the wrinkles on his hands and forehead get more pronounced with each passing year. I never got to meet my grandfather, but everyone who knew him tells me his aging was very much the same.

That's because being the king of Lucis requires something beyond the usual extreme levels of stress a world leader might expect from the job. The sitting monarch must also maintain a magical barrier around the country as the first line of defense against hostile forces. The rapid aging is an unfortunate side effect of performing this task, and thus far no one has found a way to prevent it. And, as you might expect, with premature aging comes premature death; that of course would be the reason I never knew my grandfather.

This is the future I have to look forward to when I ascend the throne. I've been known to sometimes joke about having to choose a casket and burial plot as soon as my coronation ceremony concludes, but in truth it kind of terrifies me. The thought of me assuming this task frightens my father too; through all of the many generations my family has ruled over Lucis, no other king has ever worked so hard in hopes of finding a way to stop the magically-enhanced aging process.

On the bright side, this is common enough knowledge in Lucis that I doubt I'll ever need to worry about any usurpers among my countrymen. Lucky me.

I glanced over at Gladiolus and noticed that he was in something of a contemplative state himself. His arms were folded across his perpetually exposed pectorals. A little farther down I could see part of the scar he'd received when he got stabbed that time as we were leaving a movie theater. I wondered how many others he would end up with as a result of the road trip from hell.

"Honestly, Noct," he began, "I've been asking myself a lot of tough questions ever since you finished combat training."

"What do you mean, _tough questions_?" I asked.

"First things first," he said, turning to face me. "I have a confession to make: I knew from the beginning that you should have baited Deadeye in Mistwood."

"You knew?" I repeated.

"As soon as Ignis said someone had to do it, yeah."

"Then why didn't you let me go?"

"Because what kind of bodyguard would let their charge put himself in harm's way like that?" he answered. "Certainly not the kind that would deserve to keep their job, that's for damn sure." There was a short moment of silence as he glanced down at his feet. "Not that I really _should_ keep my job, but still…"

"What are you talking about?"

 _There's_ a question that didn't sound nearly as dumb in my head as it did coming out of my mouth. Deep down, I had a feeling I knew exactly where he was going with this. I spotted the Behemoth horn slung over his back, and I thought back to our argument over who should lure Deadeye to the fuel tank, how he'd adamantly reminded us all of the long-running Amicitia family business. Now here I was with an Archaean as the trump card up my sleeve, ready to strike down whatever may have posed some kind of life-endangering threat.

"Look, this is already coming out kind of awkward," he said, "so don't take this the wrong way. But even before we met Ramuh, you were already the most powerful member of our little clique here by a _landslide_. You finished near the top of your class in combat training, and nobody ever accused anyone of playing favorites with you because you were just _that_ damn good."

I had ranked sixth out of a couple hundred new recruits. I'm not exactly sure what the criteria are for determining these seemingly arbitrary rankings, but as far as I know it hasn't steered our military wrong yet. The absolute best of the best are invited to join the Kingsglaive, an elite unit that serves as my father's top security detail, and those rankings determine who receives those invitations. I wasn't quite on that tier, but then again even if I was my royal blood would have disqualified me anyway.

"So that got me wondering," Gladio went on. "If you're such a badass that you can handle pretty much anything the world throws at you… then why the hell do you need me?"

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I am," he said. "It's just my luck that I'd work as a bodyguard for the one person in the world who needs it the _least._ So how the hell do I still have a job? _Why_ do I still have a job?"

"Gladio, if it really bothers you that much, you can just quit."

"Quit and do _what_ , exactly?"

"I don't know!" I said. "But I'm sure we could find _something_ for you to do."

"You basically just made my point for me, Noct."

"Well, I'm sorry! But you're kind of putting me on the spot here!"

Things to know about Gladiolus: this conversation was about as much as he ever felt comfortable talking about how something made him feel. When something is bothering him, he's the kind of person who will try to deal with it on his own first. Maybe he'll go to the gym and start pounding away at a punching bag, or he'll boot up a violent video game and take out his frustrations on virtual people. Most of the time that's all he really needs to get over it and whatever made him do these things in the first place will forever remain a mystery. He will only talk to you about it when he has no idea where else to turn or what else he can do. After all, he's a bodyguard – he thinks he has to be a tough guy at all times or else people might not take him seriously. We've known each other long enough that this probably shouldn't be an issue anymore, but he's been this way long enough that it probably always will be.

"Noctis," he said, "why do you think I've spent all this time learning how to hunt and fish and do all that other outdoorsy shit?" He looked away from me and in the general direction of the _CAMPSITE EXIT 2 MILES_ sign and let out a heavy sigh. "I wanted to be something more than just… the royal meat shield."

There was that phrase again: "the royal meat shield." It was the first time I'd ever heard Gladio use it with a completely straight face. I thought about how people say there's a grain of truth in every joke, this idea of humor as a convenient trick we all play on each other to make our genuine feelings easier to swallow. A joke could be such a paradoxical thing, a self-defense mechanism simultaneously being used to attack the self. And now, for the first time, I was able to cut through the candy coating to find the bitter pill underneath.

"You _are_ ," I told Gladiolus. That was all I thought needed to be said. And I set off down the road toward the campsite exit, knowing that my friends would follow.

* * *

Our trip to the campsite exit passed by without any more unpleasant surprises from the Imperial Army, but the road leading to the site itself was still a bit of a hike. None of us particularly enjoyed the walk, having spent most of the past few days on our feet, but since we had come so close to finding a place to spend the night none of us were about to complain either. We followed the road uphill as it carved out a long and winding path through the trees, staying on guard in case anything jumped out at us. Now that Niflheim had a military presence in the area, even the campsites weren't completely safe for us anymore, despite the lack of any threat from wild beasts.

Night had fallen by the time we reached the end of the road, our path lit by the full moon. It eventually led us to an empty parking lot with an outlet at the opposite end from where we entered, presumably to lead any drivers back to the main highway. We paused for a moment to catch our breath after climbing all the way up the hill, and that was when Ignis spotted something interesting tucked away in a gap behind a few trees.

"Look at that," he said. "I really hope that's what I think it is."

There was a soft yellowish-orange glow piercing the darkness of the surrounding forest, and a thin wisp of smoke dancing about toward the heavens. My heart started racing with anticipation, and as we all looked around at each other we seemed to simultaneously realize exactly what this meant.

It was a campfire, a still-burning campfire at that. And that meant there were other people here, still awake and sitting around that fire. People who might be willing to let us stay there too, and in the morning might then finally lead us out of that damned forest and back to human civilization.

We made our approach slowly, and as calmly as we could. The odds were slim that these campers were here to hunt me down on behalf of their beloved emperor, but we tried to stay cautious anyway. Fortunately we didn't have to worry about such things, as the people we saw at that campsite were clearly unaffiliated with Niflheim and didn't even seem to realize a foreign army had ever been anywhere close. But what we did see was still rather jarring – well, in the sense that unexpectedly finding a thousand gil tucked away in your jacket pocket is jarring. There were three young women gathered outside, with a dim light and blurry silhouette inside their tent indicating the presence of a fourth.

The first looked as if she had just walked out of a punk rock club, dressed in heavily studded black leather with high-heeled black boots and a folded top that wrapped around her shoulders with a big metal X over her heart. She was furiously hacking away at a shattered tree trunk with a sword that featured a large skull at the base of the blade, her short silver hair barely budging with each motion.

The second appeared to be in a much better mood, happily munching on an apple as she sat in a chair, kicked off her blue-and-white shoes, and watched the silver-haired woman work. She had long blond hair with skinny braids arranged on one side, loose locks sweeping over the other, and a blue bandanna in between, and of the three we could see she was easily the least shy about her looks. She wore a yellow bikini top with an olive-green miniskirt and visible thong straps; the least revealing thing she had on was probably the fiery-colored scarf around her neck.

The third was very calm and reserved, reading a thick novel and conjuring a small-scale ice spell to drop into her drink ("You _have_ to show me how to do that sometime," the blonde told her through a mouthful of apple). Her black hair was arranged in a bun with braids streaming down, and her neck was adorned with three bead necklaces. She wore a long cleavage-baring black dress with a fur trim and an elaborate collection of belts over her legs. There was a small pile of discarded belts beside her seat, presumably removed to keep her from getting overheated.

"Oh my God, they're all hot," Prompto mumbled, his eyes most frequently drawn to the blonde. "What are we gonna say?"

"Relax," said Ignis, blocking Prompto's forward progress with an outstretched arm. "Just let me do the talking." He cleared his throat, straightened up his posture, and strode ahead with confidence toward the campers, who then noticed our presence for the first time. "Good evening!" he greeted them, using the prim-and-proper formality with which he addressed people at work.

"Hi!" said the blonde, giving us a friendly wave and a big smile.

The mage looked up from her book with a curious expression on her face as she observed us through the campfire. "Who are _you_ guys?" she asked.

"Merely a band of weary travelers in search of a place to spend the night," Ignis explained, preferring, as he typically did, to keep my royal heritage a secret from strangers.

The silver-haired swordswoman wasn't impressed with this answer; in fact, she looked rather annoyed by our mere existence. "Keep looking," she snarled. "This campsite is occupied."

"No need to be so hostile, miss," Ignis said calmly. "There's more than enough space here for us to share it."

She turned away from the tree and jabbed the tip of her blade into the turf, staring back at Ignis with you've-got-to-be-kidding irritation. "You _really_ don't see why I'm not comfortable sharing my campsite with a bunch of guys I don't know?" she asked.

"We brought our own gear," said Gladiolus. "It's not like we're asking to crawl into your tent with you."

"You still don't get it. The answer is no."

"Aw, come on!" the blonde whined, rising from her chair and bounding over to the swordswoman. "Haven't you heard that old saying, _the more the merrier_?"

"Haven't _you_ heard that old saying, _no means no_?"

"Will I have to use the sad puppy face? Nobody can say no to the sad puppy face."

"Try me."

"You're no fun," said the blonde, and she folded her arms and stuck out her tongue. It was then that I noticed her eyes were an unusual green-and-black swirl. Maybe she was wearing custom contact lenses.

"I don't care," said the silver-haired woman. "We don't know these guys. For all we know they could be thieves, or murderers, or even—"

"Oh, for the love of God," I interrupted. "Hold on a second, okay?"

I knew exactly where she was heading with that train of thought. Under normal circumstances, I would have been more accepting of her point of view and sought out another place to break camp. She had a point: none of us knew each other, so we could have been anyone as far as she was concerned. It made me think of the day Gladio got stabbed outside that movie theater; when you were out among strangers there was no way to know who meant to do you harm and who didn't, and all you could really do was trust that none of them were the wrong sort of people. We knew we had no intention of hurting anyone, but she didn't. And it didn't exactly help our case that there were now Niflheim cyborg forces roaming the wilderness, though there was no way to know whether the campers were aware. Either way, I couldn't blame her for keeping her guard up.

But these were not normal circumstances. As far as we knew, these women were our only ticket out of the woods. And after a few days of being kicked around by Mother Nature and Lady Luck, I was not about to walk away from the opportunity.

"Look, I understand where you're coming from," I said. "But setting aside the obvious – that we are not _nearly_ shitty enough people to do _any_ of that to you – just hear me out." Then I looked over at Gladiolus and simply said, "Show them."

Gladio nodded and reached behind him for Deadeye's horn, slinging it around his front and clutching it with both hands.

The swordswoman merely raised an eyebrow, and the blonde tilted her head in confusion, but it piqued the mage's interest right away. "Wait a minute," she said. "Is that really what I think it is?"

"You see this thing?" I said, my voice weary and slightly agitated. "This is a Behemoth horn worth 25,000 gil. It took us the last couple days to track down its original owner and take it from him. But we've spent most of that time wandering aimlessly through this godforsaken forest because we _used to_ have a map, and now we _don't_ – which means we're _lost._ We have been blown up by Flare magic, we have been ambushed by half the monsters in Duscae, and we have been beaten within an inch of our lives."

"That sounds pretty disasterrific," the blonde observed.

"But now we have what we came for and we don't want to hurt anyone," I said. "We really just want to get as far away from these woods as we possibly can."

The blonde was already sold, and I could tell the mage was starting to come around as she approached us to get a closer look at the horn. But the swordswoman still seemed rather adamant on telling us to go to hell, so I launched into the meat of my pitch.

"All we need is somewhere to spend the night and someone to help us get the hell out of here," I continued. "Now, _you're_ the only people we've met since we set out on this ridiculous journey, which means _you're_ the only ones who can help us get back to Coernix Station, where our car is being fixed." I took a deep breath and looked the still somewhat skeptical swordswoman right in the eye. "So if you really think we'd be dumb enough to screw you over after all the shit we've been through… please reconsider."

Before she could give us her answer, the fourth camper finally emerged from the tent. Her light brown hair was cropped at about shoulder length before coming together in a long braid somewhere under a pink hood, and she wore a small white top with a V-shaped cut down to her navel with a pair of denim shorts and a small yellow band around each arm. We all recognized this one right away – she was the pop singer I'd seen in that swimming pool with her boyfriend all those nights ago.

"What's going on out here?" she asked, her tone gently inquisitive rather than annoyed.

"These guys would like to share the campsite, Yuna," said the mage, turning away from Deadeye's horn. "A gil for your thoughts?"

The singer looked us over with those distinctive eyes of hers, one blue and one green, and fixed them on me longest of all. "Do I know you from somewhere?" she asked me.

"Well, we certainly know who _you_ are," said Prompto, his lips forming a goofy smile as he gave Ignis a little nudge. No doubt he was recalling that time Ignis drunkenly performed a terrible rendition of one of her songs at a karaoke bar after losing a bet, which Prompto had caught on camera. Ignis seemed to remember it too, shaking his head in irritation.

"Yeah, I bet you do," the swordswoman sneered. "Back off, buddy."

"It's okay, Paine," said Yuna, and turned her attention back to me. "You know, I can't put my finger on it, but you definitely look familiar."

She seemed to be the one in charge of their party, so I figured I would give her a hand rather than wait for her to figure it out. "We stayed at the same motel last week," I said.

Her eyes narrowed for a moment as she thought it over, then widened again as the light bulb went off. "I remember now!" she said. "You saw me in the pool with my boyfriend… and I didn't get a good look at you at the time, but I remember being very worried that the prince of Lucis was about to report us."

Well, _that_ certainly caught everyone by surprise. The swirly-eyed blonde looked over at me and her jaw dropped open. "No way," she said.

"You got me," I said, raising my hands. "I mean, I wasn't planning on playing that card, but yeah… that's me."

"Thanks for not telling the manager what you saw," Yuna said with a sweet smile.

"No problem."

"So does that mean we can stick around?" Prompto asked.

"It's the least I can do," she answered.

We thanked her and began to set up our tent on the opposite side of the campfire from theirs. Gladiolus in particular was pleased to finally put the Behemoth horn down, leaving it inside the tent with the rest of what few supplies we had left. It didn't take long to get everything situated, so once we were done we joined the young women around the fire and we exchanged proper introductions.

"So," Gladiolus said, "what brings you out to this neck of the woods?"

Yuna folded her hands and glanced down toward her feet. "Oh, it's… um… it's supposed to be kind of a… wilderness sabbatical."

"That's a rather fancy name for a camping trip," Ignis joked.

"It is, isn't it?" she said. "I guess I thought if I could get away from it all, clear my mind, do some meditation… then maybe something might inspire me."

"Inspire you?" asked Prompto.

"She's trying to write new songs," said the mage, whose name turned out to be Lulu. "You know what they say: you've got your whole life to write your first album, and six months to write your second."

"But I didn't even write the first one," Yuna pointed out with a disappointed sigh. "Well, not the _hits_ , anyway. All the songs I actually wrote ended up as album filler. I didn't write 'Real Emotion,' or '1000 Words,' or 'Kiss Me Goodbye,' or 'Melodies Of Life.' And my _biggest_ hit was actually a cover."

"Wait, 'Eyes On Me' was a cover?" asked Ignis.

"Mm-hmm," she said, nodding. "So I came out here thinking it might help me create something that's actually my own, and isn't just twelve tracks of _my life is great and I love my famous All-Star boyfriend_ , but… well…"

She sighed again, as if it wasn't already apparent enough that her "wilderness sabbatical" hadn't been of much help.

"Hey, a good song is a good song no matter who writes it," said Rikku, the bubbly blonde with the swirly eyes. "What about that new song the label just offered to you for your next single, 'Simple And Clean'? I really like that one."

"Maybe you're right," said Yuna. "I might as well do that cover song for _Last Vision 15_ too." She looked startled for a moment and glanced around the fire at each of us. "That's supposed to be a secret, by the way."

"How long have you been out here?" I asked.

"It's been about a week," said Lulu.

"And tomorrow we leave," Yuna continued, "so I guess you caught us just in time."

"Yep!" Rikku chirped. "No more cooking over campfires, no more worrying about monsters breaking into our tent, no more dousing ourselves in bug spray, no more baths in freezing river water…"

"No more falling in the mud right after a bath either," Lulu muttered. "It's happened to me three times this week, and each time it's made me _exponentially_ more miserable."

"Is that even possible?" Paine said, snickering.

" _You're_ one to talk."

"So other than that, how have things been going for you?" I asked.

"It's been pretty nice, actually," said Yuna. "We've had a lot of peace and quiet, and not much else."

"In other words," said Rikku, "this was pretty much the most _boring_ week of our lives."

My friends and I glanced at each other from our spots around the campfire, thinking back to all of the sheer insanity the past few days had dumped on us. Between the car trouble, the hunt for Deadeye, the discovery of Ramuh, the suspicious appearance of the Imperial Army, and everything else in between, the last word any of us would have used to describe the experience was _boring._

"What's your secret?" asked Prompto.

* * *

We sat around that fire chatting with those women for a few hours before people started getting tired and heading off to their respective tents. By that time I thought Paine had finally started warming up to us, but she was adamant about having someone from each group keep watch, glancing at the four of us as she made her suggestion. I knew I could use some extra rest with a long day of walking ahead of us, but for once I wasn't feeling all that tired, so I volunteered for the first watch. Gladiolus seemed hesitant to let me do this, but since Lulu and her arsenal of spells would be keeping me company he gave me the green light. Prompto offered to replace me for the second shift, though he didn't like having a good night's sleep disrupted; he seemed to feel better about it once he saw Rikku's hand shoot up immediately after. Gladio and Paine would go last, despite Yuna's insistence that Paine get the night off after keeping watch from dusk till dawn the night before.

For the early part of our shift, the black mage made for some quiet company. She seemed content to gaze around the woods from time to time, as if deep in thought about something, and every now and then her fingers would inch toward the novel she'd been reading but she never picked it up. I briefly wondered if she was from Insomnia because of her all-black ensemble – it's a color that holds special significance in Lucis, especially among the monarchy and high-ranking officials – but then remembered Yuna mentioning how they'd grown up together in a small town near the beach, and said nothing about it. She carried herself with an air of maturity and sophistication that I tend to find appealing in a woman (it's certainly one of my favorite things about Luna). On top of that she was one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen, which meant she was also the kind that I would want to talk to in clubs and wouldn't because I assumed she'd seen and heard it all from the myriad of men who'd hit on her over the years. All I wanted was to pass the time with some conversation since the coast seemed clear, but I had no idea how I could break the ice.

Then she ended up doing it herself: "I've been meaning to ask you something ever since you got here."

"What's that?"

"Did you get that horn from Deadeye?"

"Yeah, we did," I said. "So you've heard of him, huh?"

"I wish I hadn't," she said. "I know all too well what he could do. Thanks to him, my last memory of my ex-boyfriend will always be the fight we had before he went on that hunt. And that flower girl he killed recently was a former classmate of mine."

"I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about," she said. "What's done is done, and nobody can change that. There's no sense in dwelling on it." She pulled out a water bottle and took a sip, leaving a faint smudge of her violet lipstick around the rim. "Or at least that's what I keep telling myself. I'm in my early twenties, for God's sake. I should not be reading about people my age in the _obituaries_."

I agreed with that sentiment. But at the same time, life is something like an antique vase sitting atop an unprotected pedestal – so beautiful and so valuable, but at the same time excruciatingly fragile, and if you're not careful you never know what could send it all crashing down. It's not a comforting thought, but perhaps there's really no such thing as a premature death, and the amount of time you're given in this world was all the time you were ever meant to have in the first place. It's the sort of thing that has caused a crisis of faith among people, even in a world where we know for a fact that the gods who are said to govern it truly exist. I thought back to what Ramuh had said about the chosen few who could successfully make a pact with the Archaeans, and Luna's role as the Oracle, and I now wondered if that meant they simply picked their favorites and left everyone else to fend for themselves.

But then I also remembered what else Ramuh had said – the part about infinite worlds and infinite possibilities. Perhaps the reason the gods could seem so indifferent was because some other version of you was the one that held their favor. Perhaps the people Deadeye had killed in this world would have survived in others. And perhaps in some other world my friends and I wouldn't have returned from hunting Deadeye, a world where our fate was to end up as the latest twenty-somethings people like Lulu would read about in the more depressing pages of the papers. In a way, it made me glad I lived in this one, as selfish as it seemed to feel like that.

"If it makes you feel any better at all," I said, "at least now Deadeye won't be able to hurt you or anyone else anymore."

"My hero," she said with a sarcastic smirk. "I'd kiss you, but my lipstick would leave marks."

"Not really," I said, hoping my face wasn't turning _too_ red. "We only took him out so we could pay for the car repairs."

"It doesn't matter," she replied, making eye contact and letting those violet lips of hers form a genuine smile. "You and your friends have done the world a favor by getting rid of him. It may not seem like much in the grand scheme of things. But think of all the hunters who could have died pursuing him, or the innocent people who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Men, women, children, even those who haven't been born yet – there are so many people who will have a chance to live now, all because Deadeye is gone."

"You won't run off with his horn, will you?" I joked.

"No, you've earned it," she said. "Still, I would've liked to be there to get some shots on him before you finished him off. Are you familiar with black magic?"

"I know a few spells."

"Well," she said, "take a look at this…"

And with that, she started to show me some of the magic she'd learned, much of which far exceeded anything I knew. In turn, I summoned my various weapons and showed off a few skills. From then on, talking to her was a piece of cake, another one of those conversations where you lose track of how long you've been talking to someone. When Prompto came out of the tent to tell me it was his turn to handle the watch, it genuinely surprised me that time had flown by that fast. Lulu said goodnight and went to shake Rikku awake, and I felt a pang of disappointment that this was likely the only time we'd ever cross paths with them. But as I was lying in my sleeping bag that night, taking care to not bang my head against Deadeye's horn, I realized why such an outcome felt so inevitable to me. It was the same reason I would likely never see Stella again.

It wasn't a preordained truth, it was a self-fulfilling prophecy. I _assumed_ that people, aside from a certain few, would simply enter and exit my life like passengers in a taxicab and there was nothing I could do about it, and as a result that's what so many potential friends or lovers turned out to be. But there was a chance to still be friends with these women, just as there was a chance to keep in touch with someone like Stella, chances that could be seized, denied, or missed altogether depending on choices I wasn't always aware I was making. And it occurred to me that there was no reason my arranged marriage with Luna couldn't turn out to be a perfect match after all, and for reasons beyond politics. The rest of my life was still ahead of me, a world that I had yet to shape, and I fell asleep that night lost in such thoughts and feeling capable of anything – perhaps even finding a way to stop the magical aging that would come with ruling Lucis.

Infinite worlds. Infinite lives. Infinite possibilities.

* * *

Another day, and not nearly enough gil, _Lilian thought as she poured herself a fresh cup of coffee, watching the cook mop the checkered floor ("It'll keep me busy," he said; "You're preaching to the choir," she said). She was never very fond of coffee, but it was just about the only thing that could keep her from nodding off during the lengthy lulls in business that were a daily tradition at the truck stop diner; even that was mostly because she'd recently been trying to kick her addiction to cola. What she wouldn't give to have been born in a more exciting part of the world, to a family with more money, and into a life with more opportunity. The only reason she hadn't quit this job was because she hadn't yet saved up enough money to move to Insomnia._

 _Sometimes she would internally debate whether these quiet periods were actually preferable to dealing with the usual clientele. Some of her customers were the sort of uncouth men who would joke behind her back about how the tip they really wanted to give her was a certain part of their anatomy, and if that was how they compensated a job well done then there wasn't much incentive to do her job well. Her boss chalked it up to them being on the road so much and away from other people; Lilian chalked it up to them being exceedingly rude. What a shame they couldn't be more like that group she'd met nearly a week ago, a group that stood out in her memory simply for being so different from the norm. Even the slightly irritating blond-haired guy in the patched-up vest who shamelessly flirted with her the whole time was okay by comparison, though the suave gentleman in the glasses was more her type._

 _Suddenly there came a loud BANG at the front door, causing her to jump and nearly knock her mug over. She settled herself as she realized it was merely the delivery of the latest edition of_ The Daily Insomniac _, her only window to the outside world at the moment; the diner had no television, the one back home was still broken, and her Internet connection was inconsistent on a good day at home and nonexistent at the diner. Strange – the delivery man was in much more of a rush than usual. Most days he'd stop for a short chat before heading off to his next destination._

 _Lilian walked over to the front door, collected the paper, and brought it back to her seat, taking care to not slip on the still-damp floor. She pulled it out of the small plastic bag it came in and hastily unrolled it, pausing only to take a sip of her coffee. With her mug still firmly in hand, she looked over the front page for the first time._

 _The impact was immediate. Her eyes widened and her pulse quickened and a chill ran down her spine as the horror of the headlines washed over her, and she entered a stage of denial as she skimmed the first paragraphs of the articles and her eyes darted to each photograph and—_

" _What?" she whispered to herself as a familiar face caught her eye. "No. No, it couldn't be…"_

 _But it was. There, staring back at her from a small portrait toward the top of the page, was a serious-looking young man with spiky black hair and piercing blue eyes. She remembered this man – he'd been at the diner last week and had pancakes for breakfast. That blond guy who kept hitting on her told her this man was the prince of Lucis. She hadn't believed him for a second. But sure enough, under that photo, she saw the name he'd told her: NOCTIS LUCIS CAELUM._

 _Lilian felt as though she'd seen a ghost. Her heart pounded harder, and her body began to shake. Her grip on her coffee mug loosened and it dropped from her hand, startling her when it shattered and spilled its contents all over the freshly-mopped floor._

 _The cook was at the other end of the room, still mopping. When he heard the mug shatter, he paused and looked over toward the server. He glanced at the ceramic shards and the small puddle of spilled coffee on the floor, then up at her with a disgruntled expression on his face._

" _I ain't cleaning that up, Lilian," he said._

* * *

There was once a time in my life when I never thought I would be as happy to see a building as I was to see the Wiz Chocobo Post. I actually pinched myself when nobody was looking just to make sure it wasn't all a dream. While we were collecting all of our camping gear, Paine had informed us that this was as far as their party would lead us. We had ventured so far away from Coernix Station that it was easier to go to Wiz first and get a ride from there, and our groups would be heading in opposite directions from that point onward. Rikku then immediately whipped out her phone (a functioning phone, hallelujah!) so she could add us on FaceSpace; Paine was the only one who didn't follow suit, shrugging her shoulders and muttering, "Maybe later."

As could be expected of a place offering chocobo transport services, the Wiz Chocobo Post was pretty rural in appearance. It was a red brick building with an old windmill in front, not far from an unpaved parking lot where several rusty old pickup trucks sat. As we approached the building we spotted a small old sign that read WIZ CHOCOBO POST in big capital letters, and I noticed that some joker had written _NOBODY BEATS THE_ above the first word in black permanent marker ("I don't get it," Rikku mumbled when she spotted it). To the left there were a couple of silos, presumably filled with various greens to feed the chocobos. There was also a picnic area with bright yellow umbrellas and a big yellow canopy extending from the roof, all of which matched the big birds' feathers, and I could see what looked like an outpost in another part of the building past all the picnic tables. And on the right, of course, stood about seven or eight chocobos, all outfitted with saddles and reins.

I'm partial to getting around in cars and airships, but for off-road exploring a chocobo is a nice way to go. People used to ride horses before chocobos were first domesticated, and there are still people nowadays who enjoy the old-school appeal, but chocobos are faster, stronger, and have better stamina without needing to eat as much. They're easier to tame in the wild too; all you have to do is toss some Gysahl greens and _voila_ , you've got yourself a ride. They'll leave if you stray too far away for too long though. Even the domesticated ones will do this, but those ones will simply find their way back home. We might have rented some ourselves if we didn't have so much stuff to carry. But between the camping equipment and all the money we were about to make, we would need a ride with more cargo space.

"So how are you all getting back to Coernix?" Yuna asked as she helped her friends load up the trunk of her bright red convertible. "I feel terrible. Any other day I would give you a ride myself, but I have a studio session later today."

"You've already been a _huge_ help," Ignis assured her.

Lulu pulled her phone out of a bag and started tapping away at the screen. "Here," she said, "I'll get you guys a Mensch driver. I'm not sure how long you'll have to wait, but it's better than walking and it should be a shorter wait than a cab."

"We owe you," I said. "Seriously, I don't even know how to repay you."

"How much of that reward money can you spare?" Paine asked, and before I could estimate she was in the car.

"Jeez," said Gladio. "Is she always this much fun to be around, or did we just catch her at a good time?"

"It's cool," said Rikku. "I'm pretty sure she was joking."

They finished packing up their car and climbed inside, and then Yuna pressed a button to put the roof down. We said our goodbyes and wished Yuna good luck in her studio session, and with that they drove off. Rikku turned all the way around in the backseat to wave at us as they left.

"She's totally waving at me, bro," said Prompto, who'd barely been able to take his eyes off the scantily-clad blonde from the minute we'd met her.

"Whatever you say," I teased.

"You know me," he said. "I'm kind of like you: I have a thing for blondes."

"Don't forget to accept her friend request."

"Oh yeah!" he said, and he reached for his pocket – only to suddenly remember that his phone was still somewhere in Insomnia, hundreds of miles away. He swore and kicked a small rock across the parking lot.

The Wiz Chocobo Post was surprisingly lively for a place situated in the middle of nowhere, though I supposed it must have been a popular tourist attraction among chocobo enthusiasts or people who just wanted to explore the woods. There were all sorts of people milling about, gathering at picnic tables, visiting the outpost, or giving scratches and greens to the chocobos. I could see two guys arm wrestling at a nearby picnic table, the first tall and muscular in a long tan coat and a black hat, and his opponent a spiky-haired blond guy with a black vest and a tattoo on his face. Loud distorted industrial guitars blared out of a speaker on their table near a pile of hot dogs, and the vocalist was sneering, " _You think you're precious! I think you're shit! And I'd kill your father to destroy his seed!_ " Meanwhile two young women were sparring with swords in an open field, one tall and lean with long pink hair and the other curvy with light brown hair, tight red pants, a sleeveless top with a long cape, and a patch over one eye. A sandy-haired teenager in a blue vest and blue leather pants was helping a brunette in an orange jumpsuit mount a chocobo. I even spotted the owner of 7th Heaven and her spiky-haired boyfriend chatting with the people I'd met at Coernix Station a few nights before – the girl in the short pink skirt and the guy in the fancy gold and black vest ( _Small world_ , I thought). I could overhear them having a friendly debate over methods of transportation; the owner of 7th Heaven favored horseback riding, her boyfriend liked motorcycles, the girl in the pink skirt liked chocobos, and the guy with the fancy vest preferred airships, and all the while a dark-skinned woman with long silver hair and pointy ears watched them silently in amusement.

"Hey, I think that girl who sings 'Real Emotion' was here," a green-haired girl in a red dress said teasingly to her friend as we passed her table en route to the outpost. "You should have given her a demo tape!"

"I don't even _have_ a demo tape, Terra," said her friend, a blonde in a green leotard with a white cloak. "God, you sing 'Aria di Mezzo Carattere' at _one_ talent show, and suddenly everyone thinks you're some wannabe opera floozy."

The outpost was a simple wooden structure with a plain counter and a few shelves of food and potions and chocobo greens, and I spotted a little sign hanging near the register saying _ATTENTION HUNTERS: WE PAY BOUNTIES_. Over on the back wall there was a poster showing six nude women sitting on the edge of a pool with different logos painted on their backs (a falling meteor, a couple embracing, a shimmering crystal, a woman dancing on water, a man in a bulky suit of armor holding two long swords, and a planet resting atop some kind of crystal structure). The clerk was sitting behind the counter watching _Red Wings_ , a popular action-comedy about a pair of bumbling airship pilots starring Cecil Harvey as the deadpan action hero and Bartz Klauser as the lighthearted comic relief, on a small television set. Once he saw us coming, the clerk took off his hat, fussed about with his hair, and straightened his yellow scarf.

"Good morning!" he greeted us. "What can I do for you?"

"We came to collect the reward for this," I said, and Gladiolus laid the Behemoth horn on the countertop.

"Is that a Behemoth horn?" the clerk asked, inspecting it closely. "Nah, it couldn't be… after all, the only Behemoth around these parts is Deadeye."

"We know," said Gladiolus. "Where do you think we got this?"

The clerk looked up at us in shock. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"You think it's a fake?" I asked.

"People bring fake Behemoth horns all the time," he answered. "Can't say I blame them, considering the price on Deadeye's head, but still—"

"Let me have a look at that," said a gruff voice behind us.

We turned and saw a tall grizzled-looking man who seemed to be in about his mid-thirties, wearing a long red overcoat with his left arm raised as if in a sling and carrying a large jug attached to his right hip. He stared out at us from behind a pair of black sunglasses, his mouth covered by a high gray collar and his right eye scarred and seemingly permanently shut. A large broadsword was slung over his back with a long skinny handle pointing toward the sky.

Without another word exchanged, the man approached Deadeye's horn and lifted it from the countertop. He examined the shape, tested the weight in his arms, and examined the cut along the bottom. It wasn't long before he put the horn back down.

"This is real," he declared.

The clerk's eyes went wide and his mouth hung open, and he looked over the horn once more. "You sure about that?" he said.

"Think about who you're talking to," the man said. "I know a Behemoth horn when I see one."

Fortunately, that was all it took to convince the clerk. He stutteringly apologized for his skepticism and went into the back room to collect the gil for our reward, which had been collected from hundreds of people – visitors and residents alike – who all wanted someone to get rid of Deadeye. He'd collected a handful of money sacks first, so I had a feeling we would have to wait a while. I hoped this wouldn't make us miss our ride.

"Thanks for your help," Prompto said to the mysterious red-coated man.

"Hmph," he muttered. "I suppose I should be thanking you. Saved me the trouble of doing it myself. Well done."

He turned to walk away and disappeared into the throngs of people, some of whom seemed to know who he was and watched awestruck as he passed by. Even though he'd only crossed paths with us for a few minutes, I got the impression that this was the sort of man who really would have faced Deadeye on his own. And I had never seen him fight, but I still had a feeling he would have won anyway.

The clerk returned with five tied-up sacks all filled to capacity with our hard-earned gil. "Sorry again for doubting you guys," he said. "But like I said, we see a lot of fakes, so…"

"Don't worry about it," I said. "Sometimes _I_ can't believe that we took down Deadeye."

"Hey, while I've got your attention," the clerk said, "I was just wondering… um, you see, my daughter's really into that whole dance-pop thing, and, uh…"

He trailed off for a moment, and I wondered if he was going to ask us something about Yuna. Perhaps he thought we were closer friends with her than we really were and maybe we could pull some strings and introduce her to his daughter. Or maybe he was wondering if we'd gotten anything autographed, which as far as I knew we didn't.

"I just wanted to know," he continued. "Aren't you those guys who sing that one song that goes like, uh—"

"No, no, no," I interrupted as politely as I could. "Sorry to disappoint, sir, but we're not actually a boy band."

"Hell, we're not even a _band_ ," Prompto chimed in. "We're just boys."

"Oh! I'm so sorry," the clerk said, chuckling nervously. "It's just… I remember they were all around your age, and they kind of looked like you, and… and now I feel like an idiot again. I should let you go."

"It's all right, sir," I said. "We actually get that a lot."

The clerk seemed to relax a bit. "Well, anyway… sorry to trouble you fellows," he said. "Take it easy now."

"You too," I said, and we took our money and set off in search of a place to sit and wait for the Mensch driver while the clerk started searching for something behind the counter.

It became something of a running joke in the tabloids that my friends and I all sort of looked the same, dressing in all black the way we do and driving around in a fancy black convertible together. Calling ourselves the Big Four would only have contributed to that image had we ever done so publicly, but since we didn't the press liked to christen us with names like Crown Club or the Royal Entourage. They talk about us as if we're an actual boy band – when Ignis stopped coming to clubs with us, they loved openly speculating about why he stopped, who might replace him, or when he might rejoin us. And to be honest, I actually found those names rather amusing and even considered embracing Crown Club as our "official" group nickname. But we've always liked keeping things simpler than most people seem to think we do.

"I'm impressed, Prompto," said Ignis. "You refrained from asking how old his daughter was."

"About as impressed as I'll be when _you_ finally talk to a girl without putting her to sleep," Prompto retorted.

We found a vacant picnic table near the parking lot and took a seat. The sparring women were taking a break nearby, and the distorted guitars of the arm wrestlers' radio were still loud enough to hear but I couldn't recognize the song. A gentle breeze snuck in under the umbrella, and after a couple hours of hiking here from the campsite I eagerly welcomed the cool air.

"Why do people keep saying stuff like that about us?" Gladiolus suddenly asked.

"Huh?" said Prompto, presumably on behalf of the rest of us.

"Calling us a boy band," said Gladio. "I don't get it. It's like the entire world is in on the same joke except us."

"God forbid a man should have a keen fashion sense without anyone thinking it's a manufactured image," Ignis commiserated.

"I don't really get it either," I said. "Come to think of it, I've never actually seen a boy band that looked anything like us. Maybe I'm just out of touch with what the kids are into these days. But I've seen them dressed like dolls, and robots, and astronauts, and horror movie monsters, and never like us."

"You know," said Gladio, "when you put it that way, it starts pissing me off. It's like people think we're the latest products of the gimmick factory."

Gladiolus has never liked the tabloids' running gag about us looking like a boy band. The way he sees it, since his line of work frequently deals with life and death situations and mine involves making decisions that affect the entire kingdom's future, we should all be taken more seriously than being reduced to Crown Club for cheap laughs and mindless gossip. Personally, I'm more annoyed when I see pictures of me eating a slice of pizza with captions like "FAMOUS PEOPLE ARE JUST LIKE US" – like, no shit, of course I'm just like you, because I'm human and that means I need to eat too. It's the sort of thing that comes with the territory of being the heir to the throne, and someday I'll just have to accept that no matter what I do people will always say these things about me and those I associate with. But for the time being, I joined my friends in bursting out laughing at "gimmick factory," much to Gladio's chagrin.

"Maybe that can be our boy band name!" I joked. "The Gimmick Factory!"

"Hang on, I got a better one," Prompto said. He cleared his throat and started mimicking a TV infomercial pitchman. "Get your high-class teen idols, fresh from the gimmick factory!"

"Dressed as always in their finest business casual," Ignis said with a smirk.

"Guaranteed to look more stylish than their dance moves ever could!"

"Call now and collect the whole set for three easy payments of 2000 gil," I said.

"I'm serious, guys," said Gladiolus, though even he was starting to laugh a little. "The next person I hear calling us a boy band is getting a haymaker to the face."

"Come on, Gladio," I said. "You can't just react to _everything_ with wonton violence."

"I'm your bodyguard. It's my _job_ to react to things with wonton violence."

"God," Ignis mused, "can you even imagine us as a boy band?"

"We would be the worst boy band ever," said Prompto. "We'd be the guys the record label hires to pretend to be a boy band because the real singers weren't good-looking enough."

"I don't even want to think about what we'd sound like on record," I said. "There'd just be absolutely _no_ harmony whatsoever."

Ignis snickered at the thought of it. "I suppose we could always tell the critics their tastes aren't refined enough to appreciate our avant-garde outsider genius," he said.

"Seriously," said Prompto, "you guys remember what Ignis sounds like when he tries to sing? I could throw a piano down the stairs and still not hit as many off-key notes."

"I thought I told you to delete that video from the karaoke bar."

"And surrender a goldmine of unintentional comedy? No way!"

Our clowning around was interrupted by the crunching of dirt beneath tires as a car pulled into the parking lot. It was a light blue Tempest convertible with the roof up and a big trunk in the back, and once it was parked the driver stepped out and checked his cell phone. He was a young man around our age, clad in a black leather jacket and a white V-neck shirt with black jeans. He brushed a few strands of his unkempt brown hair away from his forehead, revealing a long red scar between his eyes. Then he looked around a bit before shrugging his shoulders and approaching our table.

"Excuse me," he said, "you guys wouldn't happen to know anyone named Lulu, would you?"

"Ah, you must be the Mensch driver," Ignis said, "As a matter of fact, the ride is for us."

The driver looked us over and raised an eyebrow. "You expect me to believe that one of you is named Lulu?" he asked.

"She's a friend," I explained. "She got the ride for us because none of us have a working phone."

He looked around our table again, and this time he shrugged. "Whatever," he said, and he beckoned for us to follow him to his car. We made our way over to the Tempest and began loading our camping gear and sacks of gil into the trunk.

"That's a lot of money you've got there," the driver observed.

"It's our reward for a successful hunt," said Gladiolus. "How well do you know Duscae?"

"I know some of it," said the driver. "I bring my girlfriend camping out here from time to time. Don't remember the way to Coernix Station off the top of my head, but my phone does, so we'll be fine."

"How long have you been a Mensch driver?" asked Prompto.

"Only about a month. It's basically my girlfriend's latest ploy to make me less antisocial."

We finished loading up the trunk and were about to pile into the Tempest when we heard a raspy mechanical voice coming from the outpost. It was the clerk, who was announcing our triumph over Deadeye with a megaphone, and he pointed in our general direction to let everyone know who was responsible. They all turned to look at us for a moment, and I wondered if someone was about to come after us for our money. But instead they all began to cheer for us, most of them clapping their hands while others pumped their fists. The guy with the facial tattoo gave us an enthusiastic thumbs-up. I could see the owner of 7th Heaven mouthing "hey, we know those guys" while the girl in the pink skirt hugged the guy in the fancy vest and kissed his cheek. The sparring women had set their swords aside to acknowledge us, and the man in the red coat simply offered a subtle nod in our direction. It reminded me of what Lulu had said the night before, how we had "done the world a favor" by slaying Deadeye; it was something I'd thought about before, but the ensuing eruption of joy and relief from the Wiz crowd made the sense of accomplishment _real_. These people could now hike and camp and fish and do whatever else they wanted with no fear of a Behemoth wreaking havoc on their good times. We each looked back at the clerk and the crowd and acknowledged them with a wave, and then we all entered the car.

"Well, hail the conquering heroes," said the driver as we buckled our seatbelts. "You guys usually get that kind of reception around here?"

"This was actually our first hunt," I said.

"Newcomers, huh?" the driver said, and he flashed the first grin we'd seen since his arrival at Wiz. "Welcome to the fold."

* * *

Coernix Station turned out to be about a 45-minute drive from Wiz Chocobo Post, and I spent much of that ride looking out the window into the Duscae forest, listening to the melancholy indie rock that populated the driver's MP3 playlist. We had spent the last few days trying to navigate all over miles and miles of trees and hills and streams that now just blew by within minutes. It made the world feel so much smaller than it really was, with everything more connected and tightly packed. It made me think of how for so many years throughout history people had mostly stayed confined to their communities, and I wondered how it must have felt for the people setting out to explore this world for the first time as they realized the true size and scope of it all. Once we arrived at Coernix we removed our belongings from the Tempest trunk, and I offered to tip the driver before he left. He politely rejected the offer, assuring me that he'd already been paid for his services and that Mensch drivers were generally discouraged from accepting tips anyway.

The station was as quiet and sparsely populated as it had been the day we'd left, aside from the two _Last Vision_ fans I'd spotted while Cindy was inspecting the Regalia. They sat at what was probably the same picnic table as before, arguing over the best and worst seasons and whether _15_ and the remake of _7_ were worth getting excited about. Prompto considered yelling over to them that _15_ was going to be the best season ever, if only because their position was firmly entrenched in "old stuff was better" territory, but nobody else felt like picking a fight with those guys, so he let it go.

I could see the shopkeeper sitting behind the counter reading a book, but I figured we could say hello to him later. I looked over to the garage and noticed a familiar lemon-yellow jacket through the window, so we went there first. Cindy was sitting at a desk, flicking through a magazine and nodding her head to the beat of a country song on the radio. She didn't seem to notice that we were there, so I reached over to the nearest wall and knocked on it to get her attention. When she looked over and saw us, she nearly fell out of her chair in surprise.

"Oh my God!" Cindy said, bounding over to greet us with a big smile on her face. "I can't believe it! You guys really came back!"

"It took a little longer than we would have liked," Gladiolus said, "but we made it!"

"Shoot, I don't even know what to say," she said. "I've been keeping my eyes and ears open for y'all ever since you left. How did everything go? Did you ever find Deadeye?"

"Yeah, we found him," I said. "We don't have the horn to prove it, but we do have the reward to show for it."

"No kidding? You guys are really something else!"

"Turns out we're pretty good hunters after all," Prompto boasted.

If you could call what we did hunting, then yes, I would agree with that wholeheartedly. It certainly makes for a quicker and easier way to say "getting lost in the woods until we stumbled across Deadeye and also a thunder god with enough power to take him down in one shot." And it sounds more impressive that way – or at least Cindy seemed to think so.

"This I've _gotta_ hear," she said, still beaming. "I reckon it'll be one heckuva story! But first, y'all are probably wondering how your baby's doing."

She went to the desk and picked up the keys. Then she led us over to the Regalia, the sight of which I realized I had sorely missed over the past few days of wandering through the wilderness. It seemed shinier than I remembered, the paint job and rims sparkling from the rays of sunlight passing through the windows.

"I hope y'all don't mind," Cindy said, "but this morning I had nothing to do and I was getting kinda bored, so I took the liberty of giving your car a nice long wash. Don't worry; it won't cost you nothing extra!"

She didn't catch her double negative this time, but I let it slide. I was too busy holding in my laughter as Prompto nearly started drooling at the thought of a bikini-clad Cindy bending over the Regalia's hood, working up a nice lather with a big sponge, and hosing off whatever suds she got on herself. Meanwhile, she took a seat behind the Regalia's steering wheel and keyed the ignition. Where just a few days ago the engine had been making a loud rattling noise, now it was back to the familiar hums and rumbles that signified proper functioning.

"Purring like a kitten!" she proudly announced, and she revved the engine a few times to prove that her work was complete. "It's a very fancy kitten, but it still needed a lot of work, and now it sounds good as new!"

"It's as if there was never anything wrong with it at all," I said.

"You're a miracle worker, Cindy," Prompto said. "I seriously thought I had jacked this car up beyond all repair. And you did all that by yourself in, like, two days? That's amazing."

"Aw, y'all are too kind," she said, turning the car off. "Just doing my job, you know?" She got out of the car and stretched her arms out a bit, and then something occurred to her and her smile began to fade. "Oh, and there's one other thing I gotta show you guys. But this ain't gonna make y'all happy."

"As long as we have enough money to pay the bill," I said, "we'll be happy."

"Um, yeah," she said, looking sheepish as she approached the register. "Speaking of paying off your bill…"

She gestured toward a small black electronic device beside the register. It had a numerical keypad with a green YES button, a yellow button with a back arrow, and a red CANCEL button. On one side a black pen was attached with a skinny cord, and on the other there was a strip through which you could swipe your—

"That's the new credit card reader, isn't it?" asked Ignis.

"Yep… it came a lot sooner than we were expecting."

She winced at first, as if expecting us to completely lose our cool. Perhaps we should have after spending all that time hunting down a dangerous monster when all we had to do was lounge around in a trailer watching television for a few days. But we didn't, and I think I understood exactly why, at least from my own perspective: because now that it was over, I didn't regret any of it. We pushed ourselves harder than we ever had, and at times we damn near broke, but when the chips were down we stuck together anyway.

"You know what?" I said. "Screw it. We're still paying in cash."

She smiled again and watched as I opened one of our sacks of gil and counted out every last bit of the money we owed her. And then, as soon as I was done, instead of taking my keys back from Cindy and loading up the Regalia, I turned on my heel and headed straight for the door.

"Where in the world are you going?" asked Ignis.

"The convenience store," I answered. "I need to ask the shopkeeper if our trailer is still available."

"What do you need the trailer for?" asked Prompto. "We got the car back. It's time to hit the road, bro."

"Not just yet," I said with a smirk. "I'm calling first dibs on the shower."

"Pulling rank on us again, huh? You magnificent bastard."

"I _need_ one," I said. "And quite frankly, so do you guys. For now: Ignis and Gladio, you guys can keep yourselves busy loading up the car and making sure we're not leaving anything behind."

"What about me?" Prompto asked, folding his arms. "What the hell am _I_ supposed to do?"

"Hey, _someone_ has to tell Cindy what we've been up to," I said, punctuating it with a wink.

He looked back at the cute blond-haired mechanic, who was now eagerly waiting to hear the story. She was leaning over the counter with her eyes fixed on Prompto, cocking her head and gently swaying her hips back and forth. He seemed a bit nervous, as if he'd been wanting her to look at him exactly like that from the minute he'd first seen her – which, knowing Prompto, he probably was.

"Oh, right!" he said with a goofy grin, realizing that maybe I wasn't the worst wingman of all time after all. "Just save some hot water for the rest of us, okay?"

"I'm not promising you a damn thing," I said, and I walked out.

The shopkeeper was also happy to see that we'd made it back from our hunt, figuring that whether we'd taken Deadeye down or not, at least we were safe. He took the key for trailer number six, lamenting the lateness of the daily newspaper and the broken cable and wifi as he did so, and handed it over. This time we'd be allowed to use the trailer for free and would even get a 75 percent discount on anything we wanted from the store as his way of showing gratitude for slaying the Behemoth ("It's not much," he said, "but it's the best I can offer you"). I spotted him cheerfully removing Deadeye's wanted poster from the wall as I left.

It took about an hour and a half for all of us to get showered and put on a change of clothes. Prompto was the last of us to get ready to resume the road trip, which was perfectly fine with all of us. He didn't tell Cindy about his double life, or his showdown with Ignis, or anything else that might have been too personal. But he didn't have to do that to hold her interest. She was riveted by his every word, her colorful reactions to certain parts of the story keeping me amused as I enjoyed a turkey sandwich from the convenience store.

Eventually we were all cleaned up, dressed in new outfits, and ready to drive off to the harbor, where our ship to Altissia would be waiting. Our phone batteries had all been fully charged as well, and we took advantage of the discount at the store, stocking up on food and snacks for the rest of the trip. But Cindy wanted to take care of one last thing before we left.

"I was just wondering," she said, pulling her own phone out of her pocket. "I mean, I don't know when we might run into each other again, so… you know… maybe we could add each other on FaceSpace, and y'all can write me with any questions you got about your car, or just to say hi, or something."

"An excellent idea!" said Prompto.

"Need any help finding us?" asked Ignis.

"I'm good. Y'all have pretty unique names. I've found three of you already." She looked over at me in confusion. "I can't find _you_ though, Noctis."

"Do a search for Lamont Daguerreo," I said.

"Who's Lamont Daguerreo?" she asked, tapping the name into the search bar.

"It's me. I use a fake name on social media."

"What the heck would you need that for?"

"Just so random strangers won't flood my feed," I explained. "I'm, uh… kind of a big deal back home."

" _Kind_ of?" Prompto said, snickering. "Bro, you're pretty much _the_ big deal back home."

"What, you mean like the prince of Lucis or something?" she asked, clearly making a wild guess.

"Good guess," I said.

She looked up at me with surprise. "No kidding?" she said. "That's pretty cool! As a matter of fact, I think my grandpa used to serve in the military with your dad and Commander Leonis."

"Really? What's his name?"

"Cid Sophiar."

"Hang on, your grandfather is Cid Sophiar?" said Gladiolus. "Noct's father used to tell us stories about him all the time."

"They still write sometimes too," she said, beaming with pride. "Kind of funny how things work out now and then, ain't it? You know, everything being connected and all that."

"It really is," I said. "So is there anything else we need before we go?"

"Nope!" she said. "That about covers it. Y'all drive safe now, you hear? Be good to this baby."

"As long as _this_ one stays out of the driver's seat," Ignis said, pointing at Prompto, "we should be good to go."

"Is that so?" she said, glancing over at Prompto. "Maybe you and I ought to race sometime. I must admit, I'm a bit of a lead foot myself."

"Challenge accepted!" Prompto said with a big grin.

"All right then!" Cindy said. "Y'all have fun in Altissia!"

"We'll try," I said.

Ignis keyed the ignition as we waved our goodbyes to Cindy, and with that we were finally back on the road, blasting the radio once we came across a station playing something appropriately triumphant. The only other car on the road was a newspaper delivery truck heading toward Coernix, but this time Prompto knew better than to tell Ignis he should test the engine's limitations.

* * *

As Ignis guided the Regalia along the long and winding road toward the harbor (we were still probably a couple hours away at that point), it occurred to me that I needed to check my phone. I had been away from it for the past few days; it was probably filled with messages from people wondering where the hell I'd been, and I wondered how many of them were from Luna. I pulled the phone out of my pocket and tried to access it with my thumbprint, but it didn't recognize it because I wasn't putting my thumb in just the right position, so after three failed attempts I tapped in my pass code. The last application I'd had open when I last used my phone was FaceSpace, so I accepted the friend requests from Cindy and the women who'd helped us get to Wiz Chocobo Post and exited the application. Meanwhile Gladiolus was fussing with the radio trying to find a station with as little static coming through as possible, an increasingly difficult task as we were getting farther and farther out of range of any major stations from Insomnia or even any small-town stations in Duscae. He came across one station with a news anchor delivering the latest entertainment headlines, though it was still a pretty fuzzy signal.

"We can confirm that this will be the official premiere date for _Last Vision 15_ ," the anchor said.

"Aw, shit," said Prompto. "They announced the premiere date and we missed it?"

"Reports indicate that the press event will stream online and will also include the following announcements," the anchor continued. "A short Internet-exclusive animated prequel series, a full-length feature film, a custom-designed sports car, a pinball game for mobile phones, and… um… excuse me… uh, we've just received word that we weren't supposed to tell you _any_ of that, as Pyramid Studios wanted it to be a surprise for their fans. Oh dear. Um, we would like to apologize for that, and… yeah. We'll be back after this word from our sponsors. Stay tuned for our ongoing coverage of—"

The static then overpowered the anchor's voice, and Gladiolus finally gave up and turned the radio off. "Looks like we'll just have to entertain ourselves for a while," he said.

"They're certainly throwing a lot of money at season 15, aren't they?" Ignis observed.

"Maybe they're just really confident in it," said Prompto. "This could turn out to be pretty cool, bro – a multimedia experience the likes of which most studios would never try."

"That's still a _ton_ of gil that isn't going toward improving the main attraction itself," said Ignis. "I shudder to think what will become of the studio if it fails. If this isn't them putting all of their chips in the pot, I don't know what would be."

Meanwhile I had opened up my text messaging application to see if anyone had tried to contact me during the hunt for Deadeye. It brought me to the last message I'd sent out before leaving my phone behind at Coernix. The message was part of a conversation with Nyx Ulric, one of the higher-ranking members of Kingsglaive, a friendly acquaintance who typically takes things pretty seriously but loosens up a lot when he drinks. Our conversation had gone like this…

 **NYX:** YEAH BITCH! MARRIAGE!

 **ME:** Go home, Nyx. You're drunk.

 **NYX:** Hey, I need to build my tolerance in time for your bachelor party.

 **ME:** I'm having a bachelor party? That's news to me.

 **NYX:** Shit, I knew we forgot to invite somebody.

I tapped my way to the main message screen, which showed a list of my most recent text messages and the senders. There were a couple reminders of credit card and insurance bills due at the start of next month, but aside from that the only person who'd sent me any new messages was Luna. I chuckled a little, thinking maybe everyone else was just too busy to check up on the AWOL heir to the throne, and tapped into Luna's messages.

"Noctis, where are you?" the message read. "I keep calling and calling and leaving voicemail after voicemail, and you're never there and you never respond. Call me back as soon as you can. PLEASE BE OKAY."

There are some human emotions that the written word is sometimes insufficient to express, but worry isn't one of them. I suppose I should have expected to read something like that. Luna's my friend, and she's about to become my fiancée, and as far as she knows I've vanished into the ether without a trace. Of course she's worried, just as I would be had this happened to her. So I exited the texting application and went to my voicemails. Sure enough, Luna had left eight messages over the past day and a half. I scrolled down to the oldest message and tapped to listen to it.

"Noctis, it's Luna," the first one said. "I don't know if you've heard what's going on, but… please just call me back as soon as you get this message. Be careful. See you later."

The next few messages went something like that, though as the messages became more recent I could hear an increasing nervousness in her tone that she was clearly trying to hold back. And then I got to number eight.

"Hi Noctis," she said. "Look, I'm sure by now you must know what happened. And maybe that's why you're not responding. Maybe you… maybe you think I'm involved with it somehow. But I want you to know that _none_ of this was my idea. I swear to all of the gods, you can still trust me. And if you don't… well, I understand. It's hard to trust anyone these days… especially if they're from Niflheim. So you don't even have to tell me where you are. Just tell me that you're safe out there, wherever you are. I hope I see you in Altissia soon."

What the hell was she talking about? Why did she sound so distressed? There was only one way to find out.

"You okay, bro?" Prompto asked from the seat beside me. "Who are you calling?"

"Luna," I said. "Something's wrong."

The phone rang a few times and I wondered if now it was my turn to leave a stressed-out voicemail, but finally she picked up. "Hello?" she said.

"Hi Luna," I said. "It's Noctis."

"Noctis, thank God!" she exclaimed. "Where have you guys been? I've been so worried…"

"We kind of dropped off the grid for a couple days," I explained. "It's a long story, but I didn't have my phone with me for a while."

"Off the grid, huh? Maybe you had the right idea after all."

"What are you talking about?"

"You mean you didn't know?"

"Didn't know _what_ , Luna? What the hell is going on?"

She took a deep breath to relax herself. And then, as calmly as she could, she finally dropped the bomb.

"Noctis," she said, "the Empire invaded Lucis yesterday. And everyone thinks that you and your father and I are all dead."

What? No… no, it couldn't be true. It couldn't be. But what reason did I have to believe that it wasn't?

I slumped back in my seat with one arm dropping limp to my side and the other stiffly gripping my phone against my ear. My jaw hung open and my eyes stared blankly at the leathery back of the seat in front of me. I felt like a deer in the headlights. What was I supposed to say? What was I supposed to do? I didn't know.

"Noctis?" Luna asked. "Are you still there?"

 _I'm not here. This isn't happening. I'm not here. This isn't happening. I'm not here. This isn't happening. I'm not here. This isn't happening…_

"Yeah," I mumbled. "Yeah, I'm here."

"That makes two out of three then," she said. "I still don't know what happened to your father. The last I heard, he was still back in Insomnia. But if the Empire is lying about us being dead, then there's a chance he's still alive too."

"So what do we do now?"

"Meet me in Altissia," she said. "We'll figure out our next move from there. Give me a call as soon as your ship arrives. Don't draw any attention to yourselves. And if you have to buy anything, pay for it in cash."

"All right," I said. "See you tonight, then."

"Be careful out there, Noctis."

"You too," I said, and I ended the call.

I glanced around the car at the others, who were all staring back at me with looks of deep concern painted all over their faces. Even Ignis had pulled the car over to the side of the road to see what was wrong. And I didn't know how I could put it into words – the despair over possibly losing my father, the raging hatred I felt for Niflheim at that moment, the powerlessness that came with having everything I knew stripped away all at once, and the nagging voice of denial in the back of my mind, still repeating that mantra: _This isn't happening._ But I told them anyway, and soon my friends were all feeling just as lost as I did, a sense of "lostness," as Gladio had put it, that dwarfed anything we had felt while wandering through the wilderness.

Just then, I saw something coming out of the woods. They moved mechanically through a wooded area to our left, past a massive rocky formation that towered over the trees. It was a small squadron of cyborgs from the Imperial Army, presumably one of the units sent out to search the Duscae wilderness for me. And I welcomed the sight of them. I was about to get out of the car, summon a Zweihander greatsword, and carve them all into unrecognizable chunks of worthless scrap metal, not that this would have been much of a downgrade from their current state. I reached down and started fumbling with my seatbelt—

"This may sound strange," Ignis said, "but is it just me, or did that mountain just _move_?"

We all followed the direction of his pointed finger, and the cyborgs' curiosity had been piqued enough to draw their attention as well. Sure enough, the giant rock appeared to be rising, as if standing up. My eyes went wide as I realized what we had stumbled across, having recalled reading about such creatures in books and wondering if they were real or simply mythological. Back then I had hoped for the latter, and now I was wishing I had been right about that.

"That's not a mountain, Ignis," said Gladiolus. "That's an Adamantoise."

And as soon as the words left his mouth, the Adamantoise raised its enormous head above the trees, knocking a couple over in the process. It looked something like a giant tortoise, with the huge rock serving as its shell, and it had green eyes and a long and curvy horn with a spike jutting out from each side of its chin. As it stood on all four legs, it knocked over another couple of trees that took out the cyborgs in one shot. Then it looked over at us and began to turn.

"You know what?" Prompto said. "If we can talk the Empire into leaving the rest of Lucis alone, they can keep Duscae!"

"Ignis," Gladio said, "you might want to start driving."

Ignis didn't need to be told twice. He put the car in drive and hit the gas pedal hard. I looked behind us and could see the Adamantoise beginning to follow, picking up a little more speed with every step and making the earth rumble beneath its feet. The ground shook enough that Ignis nearly lost control of the car as he rounded a slight curve. After that the road straightened out for as far as we could see, and Ignis made the Regalia accelerate as much as it possibly could.

"I've got to be honest," I said. "I don't like our odds of outrunning this thing in a convertible."

"This is why you should've told your dad to buy you an airship for your last birthday," said Gladiolus.

The Adamantoise continued to pursue us, with each step seemingly covering about half a mile and continuing to make the ground shake. Ignis was staring straight ahead, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white, and I couldn't tell whether the monster scared him more or the hazards it caused as it chased us. Gladio's head kept darting around, looking ahead and behind and to the sides in search of any possible obstacles or ways to elude the beast, and finding nothing. Prompto stayed focused on the Adamantoise, watching in a frightened awe, as if he couldn't believe something like this could actually exist. But then something occurred to him, and he looked over at me.

"Hey Noct," he said, "why don't you summon Ramuh to bail us out?"

"He said I could only call him once a day."

"Yeah, and you called him _yesterday_ , so try it again!"

"All right," I said. "I'll give it a shot. Just let me get a good look at this thing."

I unbuckled my seatbelt and stood facing backwards, gripping the back of my seat to steady myself as the wind whipped through my hair. Somehow the Adamantoise had gotten even closer, and it let out a deafening roar as it continued to chase us. I couldn't make sense of this – weren't tortoises supposed to be slow? I guess that's what happens when you can cover that much ground with every step you take.

"Shit!" I shouted. "He's gaining on us!"

"Floor it, Ignis!" hollered Gladiolus.

"I'm already flooring it!"

"It can't go any faster?"

" _No_ , it can't go any faster!" Ignis yelled. "You want us to blow the damn engine again? I don't hear any summoning going on back there!"

I looked back at Ignis with a quick nod and raised my right hand to the heavens again, just as I had the day before when I had called Ramuh to finish off Deadeye for us. "RAMUH!" I shouted. "I SUMMON YOU!"

But nothing happened this time. No hand reaching down to scoop me up, no lightning-powered staff being thrust into the ground from on high, not even any gathering storm clouds like there had been last time. If Ramuh had heard my call, his answer now was apparently "no."

"Ramuh, come forth!" I called again. "We need your help!"

The Archaean was still a no-show. It didn't make any sense. I hadn't called him yet that day. Why wasn't he answering me?

"What the hell is going on?" asked Prompto. "Why isn't it working?"

"Oh God," said Ignis. "You don't think he meant once every _24 hours_ , do you?"

"Noctis, what time did you call him yesterday?" asked Gladiolus.

"I don't know!" I answered exasperatedly. "Who the hell checks their watch when they're summoning the god of thunder?"

"What are we supposed to do now?" asked Prompto. "We can't fight this thing! We wouldn't stand a chance in hell!"

I dropped back into my seat, trying to think of some way we could get out of this mess – and also a reason why Ramuh still hadn't come to our rescue. It seemed odd that a god who could transcend space and time needed a full human day to recharge his powers, but that was part of the deal we'd made and there was no going back on that. Then I remembered what he'd said about our "most dire hour of need," wondering why this situation wouldn't qualify by his apparently arbitrary criteria. I glanced around the car at each of my friends, knowing that they were looking to me for some solution and feeling utterly clueless as to what to do – and then something near the driver's seat caught my eye. And suddenly it seemed to me that perhaps Ramuh hadn't deemed this hour of need dire enough because he trusted us to find the other way out.

"Maybe we don't have to," I said. "Hey Ignis, do you see that little red button next to the steering wheel?"

"Yes, I see it," he answered. "What does it do?"

"I'm gonna need you to press that button."

"But what does it _do_?"

"You'll find out! Just press the damn button!"

I buckled my seatbelt as he pressed the red button, and then the roof came out and covered our heads. There came a series of mechanical squeals and grinds behind us as a compartment in the trunk opened up and a pair of additional black metal parts unfurled. They each extended from either side of the Regalia, making it look as if it had wings. I could hear other parts coming out just above the wheels, and this was soon followed by another droning sound that resembled an airplane's engines warming up.

"What the hell is going on back there?" Gladio asked.

"You guys might want to sit tight for this," I said.

Then, finally, there came an upward push as the new engines ignited. Everyone else jolted in their seats, alarmed by what was happening, but since I was the only one who understood what was going on, I didn't. The Regalia then launched itself forward and upward into the sky, leaving the Adamantoise behind and soaring above the roads and hills and valleys.

"Holy shit!" Prompto shouted, staring out the window as we ascended. "Holy _shit_! This is the coolest car of all time!"

Ignis might have been more impressed had he not been in the driver's seat. "Noctis, how do you even control this thing?" he said, obviously reluctant to even turn the steering wheel for fear of sending us plummeting to our deaths.

In retrospect, keeping the Regalia's aerial abilities a secret might not have been the best idea. But as I was still something of a novice pilot myself, I never really felt comfortable enough to use it much. I certainly hadn't thought I was prepared to fly a car with anyone else along for the ride. Besides, I knew that if my friends knew my car could fly I would never hear the end of it. So now there we were, sitting in a flying Regalia with a pilot who hadn't even known the car could fly five minutes earlier. And here I thought _Prompto_ was the one who didn't always think things through.

"The same way you control it as a car," I instructed, "except now you pull the wheel toward you to ascend and push it away to descend."

"That's wonderful," said Ignis. "So how the hell am I supposed to _land_ it?"

"There's a switch under the red button for the autopilot," I answered.

"That doesn't answer my question at all!"

"Ignis, just turn on the autopilot, would you?"

He looked back at me with an utterly baffled expression that would have been hilarious had our lives not been in his currently incapable hands. "Are you insinuating that I should let the flying car land _itself_?" he asked incredulously.

"No!" I said. "I just want it on long enough so we can switch seats. I'll show you how to fly and land later."

His protesting finished – and successfully refuted – for the time being, Ignis flicked the switch to turn on the autopilot and unbuckled his seatbelt. Then he climbed into the back and sat between me and Prompto. Once he was out of the way, I climbed into the front and replaced him behind the wheel. I buckled the seatbelt, turned off the autopilot, and began to steer the Regalia toward the harbor.

"So let me get this straight, Noctis," Gladiolus said once I had control. "You mean to tell me we went through _all of that_ when the car was able to fly this whole time? We could have flown to the harbor any time we wanted!"

"Yeah," I said with a playful smirk, "but the fuel economy sucks when you fly."

* * *

I don't know why I thought I'd be able to get a single minute of sleep that night. As much as I tried to nap through the trip across the sea, I couldn't relax, and I never thought I would be so eager for my narcolepsy to kick in again. Part of it was because night had fallen while we were on the ferry to Altissia, and I still hadn't quite found my sea legs just yet. But the biggest reason was because I could not stop thinking about the news from Luna. It all felt so surreal, like some kind of window into another world, because surely such a thing couldn't have happened here. I found myself wishing I could wake up back in my bed in Insomnia, or even a tent out in the Duscae woods, back in a time where I still had a father, and a kingdom, and an identity. My entire life had revolved around preparing to succeed my father upon the throne, and now in one fell swoop all of that was gone. I was nothing. I was nobody.

It was a numbing feeling, like my brain couldn't decide whether to be furious or distraught, and it suffered a critical error like a computer with a virus. All I could do was lean over a guard rail on the ferry, listening to the waves smack against the side of the ship as it chugged along the current, watching a meteor shower rain down across the starry night sky. There was a song playing in the background somewhere, acoustic chords sprinkled with electric arpeggios and the singer's voice a gentle croon. I closed my eyes and focused on the music in hopes of easing my mind.

" _It's like living in a movie, twisting the plot_ ," the lyrics went. " _My friends and family, the little things I got… I got… when my thoughts drift to you._ "

The trick would have worked had I not felt a firm hand clasp my shoulder. "Hey Noct," said Gladiolus. "You doing all right over here?"

"Not really."

"This isn't over by a long shot," Ignis assured me. "We'll figure out how to reclaim your throne soon enough."

"Kind of hard for you to give me a pardon when everyone thinks you're dead, bro," Prompto joked. "Not that I wouldn't appreciate the gesture _now_ , but still."

I didn't laugh, or tell him to shut up, or do anything. I just kept staring out into space as meteoroid after meteoroid plummeted through the atmosphere, leaving bright white streaks across the infinite dark canvas of the sky as they slowly disintegrated into harmless dust. I remembered reading once about how ancient civilizations believed that comets were an omen of incoming catastrophes or the deaths of nobles and kings. I wondered how they would have reacted to meteor showers. They must have looked up at the sky and thought the whole damn world had come crashing down. But nowadays people knew better; you didn't need to witness swarms of meteorites falling to the earth to feel that way.

"Hey," Gladio said, "have you guys ever stopped to really _look_ at the stars?"

"Not really," said Prompto. "Too busy doing stuff down here to worry about what's up there."

"Okay, but… I mean, don't you guys ever wonder about that kind of thing?"

"In a purely scientific sense, yes," Ignis replied. "There's still so much we don't understand about the universe. It's a bastion of infinite secrets."

"Yeah," said Gladio. "Infinite worlds, infinite possibilities, like Ramuh said." He leaned over the guard rail beside me and followed my gaze upward. "I wonder if that means the stories we tell, and we _think_ we just make up… are actually happening somewhere in the universe. Alien invasions, zombie apocalypses, worlds being saved by pink-haired soldiers…"

"I think someone must have slipped a little peyote into your drink," Prompto said. "As if the military would _ever_ let someone dye their hair pink."

"Think about this," Gladio went on. "Thousands of light-years away from here, orbiting one of those stars we're looking at _right now_ , there could be a world just like ours, with people just like us, or maybe completely different from us, but still looking at the night sky and wondering what's up there. And there would be no way any of us could ever know, because it's all so far out of our reach."

"Kind of makes you feel small, doesn't it?" I cut in. "Small and insignificant, like nothing we do really matters at all."

"Easy for you to say, _Highness_ ," Ignis teased.

"No, no," I said, "I'm talking about… you know, the whole 'grand scheme of things,' or whatever. A hundred years from now, after we're all gone, the world will be so different… it'll be like we were never here at all."

"There's a comforting thought. Thanks, Noctis."

"I think I understand," Prompto told me. "This life is all we get, you know? This is our only chance to experience this crazy world we've all been dropped into. So screw it, man… if nothing we do really matters, then why the hell _can't_ we just jump in our cars and go exploring?"

"Because at some point we all have to grow up and join the real world," said Ignis.

"That doesn't mean we have to turn our imaginations off," Prompto argued. "That's why I always wanted to go on a trip like this. We can just cast the real world aside for a while."

And with that, we all gathered around to watch the meteor shower, casting the real world aside just as it had done to us. Perhaps some alternate-reality version of me would have found the situation liberating, an opportunity to create a life for myself now that I had been forcibly stripped of power, identity, and responsibility. I could have kept traveling the world in the Regalia, by land or by air, with the trio surrounding me as all the companionship I would need. We could have gone on more hunts, found some wannabe Deadeye and taken him out just as we had with the real Deadeye. We could have assimilated into the mark hunting subculture that congregated around the world at places like Wiz Chocobo Post. We could have adopted new names, found new careers with less world-altering responsibilities. We could have traveled the world in search of whatever strange adventures we could find.

But as I thought this over, something occurred to me: none of that appealed to me as much as the life I had been born to lead, the role I was dropped into this crazy world to play, and that was because I simply wasn't wired that way.

* * *

It was sometime after ten o'clock when the ferry arrived in Altissia, the waterfall city's bright lights drowning out many of the stars that had been so clearly visible out on the open water. The city's nightlife was as busy as ever. People dressed to impress and were coming and going in and out of hotels and cafés and clubs, while others were doing some last-minute browsing at the markets before closing time, and I could smell fresh roasted coffee from one café near the dock where the ferry dropped us off. Gondolas rowed along the canals connecting each district, and motorboats and yachts were scattered in the ever-flowing water in between. The most prominent architecture of the place was dominated by arches and spires, all centuries-old church towers and decades-old government offices (Altissia is the capital city of Lucis's neighbor nation Accordo) and museums, and wherever people went water would flow overhead or underground in a complex system of aqueducts. Colossal statues stood at the main entrances of each major district, and off in the distance I could see suburban residential areas on small islands overlooking the lower waterfalls. It was a city that never slept, always bustling and brimming with human activity. More importantly, it was neutral territory, a safe haven where nobody from Niflheim was likely to be looking for us.

And there she was, waiting at the dock, her long blond hair pinned up at the crown of her head with some loose bangs sweeping over one side of her face, her white dress gently brushing against the ground with every step. It was a less formal meeting than I had expected when we'd first set out for Altissia, but I didn't care. It had been so long since the last time I'd seen Luna in person that I'd nearly forgotten how radiant a presence she really was. She had grown into a beautiful young woman who stood out in a crowd wherever she went, with or without the prestige of her rank as Oracle, and as a relieved smile spread across her face I instinctively returned it. As soon as I stepped off the ferry she hurried over and threw her arms around me as tightly as she could. I was briefly taken aback by it, but soon my arms were around her too.

"I was afraid I'd never see you again," she murmured in my ear. "I'm glad you all made it. I'm so sorry… about everything."

"Good to see you too," I said. "Any word about my father?"

"Nothing yet," she said, loosening her grip and gently resting her hands on my shoulders. "I wanted to reach out to some members of Kingsglaive, but I don't know how to get in touch with them."

"I can help you with that," I said.

"So where are we going?" asked Prompto. "Do we have a place to spend the night?"

"Mm-hmm," she answered, nodding her head. "There was only one hotel that had enough vacancies to fit your whole group. Are any of you familiar with the Altissia Plaza?"

"We've been there," said Ignis.

"What are you talking about?" said Prompto. " _I_ wasn't there."

"It was for official government business," Gladiolus explained. "You wouldn't have been there."

Luna led us through a crowded street past some of the last marketplaces that were still open for business, and then turned left at a coffee shop. We followed her for another two or three city blocks – it's difficult to determine in a city with such unconventional streets – and crossed the road to the front door of the hotel. The main lobby was dominated by gold, from the paint on the walls to the huge chandeliers dangling from the ceiling that sparkled with every small diamond in their design. There was a long desk on the right side of the lobby, staffed by about seven people in fancy black suits, and to the left there were arrangements of cushy leather couches and coffee tables.

"I've already reserved rooms for us," said Luna. "You guys are checking in under that pseudonym Noctis uses on FaceSpace."

"You're not friends with any of the hotel staff, are you?" Ignis asked me with a smirk.

"Relax," I said. "We still have plenty of cash left over from our Deadeye reward money. If anyone recognizes me, I can just slip them a few extra gil for their silence."

"Who's Deadeye?" Luna asked.

"It's a long story," I replied. "And it's much longer than it probably should have been."

"I promise I'll try not to nod off halfway through," she said. "Besides, I think you and I need a little time to talk anyway."

"Well," said Prompto, grinning playfully, "at least _someone's_ going to enjoy their stay."

"We're only talking," she said, and she shot him an irritated glance.

She led us over to the front desk, where thankfully "Lamont Daguerreo" turned out to be an acceptable name for the staff. We checked in and acquired a key to room 415; Luna said her room wasn't far down the hall from ours. We thanked the clerk, headed over to the nearest elevator, and filed ourselves in with another group who'd checked in at around the same time as we did and would be staying on a higher floor.

"Hey Luna," Prompto asked once we were off the elevator, "is there anything good on TV around here?"

"I have no idea," she answered. "I've spent most of my time here reading about the invasion and trying to contact people."

"Would we be safe if we wanted to go out and see the sights?" asked Ignis.

"I personally wouldn't recommend it," she said. "Better to keep a low profile."

We reached the door to room 415, and Gladiolus did the honors of unlocking it and flicking on the light switch. The room looked simple and comfortable, with two king-size beds, a television atop a dresser at the opposite wall, and a bathroom beside the doorway. A large glass window overlooked the busy city streets below, the view peppered with bright street lights and neon signs. Prompto rushed into the room with an exuberant "YES," dropped his duffel bag on the carpet, and leapt onto the bed near the window, coming down on his back with his limbs all sprawled out like a pole vaulter landing on a mat.

"Air conditioning _and_ a mattress!" he called out. "Can we live here?"

Gladio and Ignis followed him in and started emptying out their bags, Ignis teasing Prompto about his overreaction to such simple things that every building had nowadays. After all that time we'd spent roughing it in Duscae, I could certainly understand the jubilation of feeling cool air mechanically blowing into your room. But now that I had seemingly no home to return to, I wondered how much more time we would have to spend out in the wild. I supposed as long as we had a means of transportation and kept going on hunts to earn money, we could find places to stay until the time came to take our country back.

I was about to enter the room when I felt Luna's soft hand grab a hold of my wrist. "Could we talk for a minute, just you and I?" she asked, her voice a whisper.

"All right," I said. I told the others I'd be back in a few minutes, and I followed Luna to her doorway down the hall.

"We'll have to be quiet," she said as she unlocked the door. "Gentiana is out cold in there."

I followed Luna into her room, and sure enough her raven-haired assistant was wrapped up in her blankets, fast asleep. She offered me a chair and took a seat on her mattress.

"So what did you want to talk about that the others couldn't hear?" I asked.

"I think you know," she said. "Remember why we were supposed to come here?"

"Yeah, I remember," I said. "Call it a hunch, but I have a feeling we won't be getting married anytime soon."

She let out a little sigh as she bent to remove her shoes. I wondered whether that meant she was unhappy that our nuptials had been indefinitely postponed, or whatever else. Probably just me overanalyzing things; she'd had a long day too and was probably about to go to sleep herself.

"Noctis," she said, her eyes still fixed on the floor even though her shoes were off, "we were never meant to be married in the first place."

"What are you talking about?"

"Didn't it strike you as odd that your father would relocate our meeting at the last minute?"

I thought it over, and in retrospect she was probably right. We were originally meant to meet in the Insomnia Capitol building to agree to the terms of our engagement. But all of a sudden on the day before the original meeting date, two days before my friends and I had set out in the Regalia, my father had told me that it was being rescheduled and relocated to a more neutral site in Altissia. He told me that Luna already knew about the change of plans and would be on her way there instead. It had never once occurred to me that there was any kind of ulterior motive for making this change, and I felt like a fool. No, worse than simply a fool – a fool who had abandoned his family and his country in their greatest time of need.

"It was a sham from the beginning," she continued. "The Empire had no intention of ever honoring the peace treaty. And I think your father must have realized somehow what was coming. That's why he had us come here – to protect us."

"Why couldn't he just _tell_ me that?"

"Would you really have left if he did?"

"No," I muttered bitterly. "But maybe I should go back anyway. What the hell am I even doing here? I'm sitting in a four-star hotel in Altissia, and meanwhile my people back home are fighting off a goddamn _invasion_." I ran a hand through my hair and began to massage my forehead. "I should have stayed in Insomnia, fighting with my father, protecting my kingdom. How the hell am I supposed to help them from hundreds of miles away?"

"By existing," she answered. "As long as you're still alive, Lucis can still have a king."

"I can't believe we fell for such an obvious trap," I said. "Niflheim's been after the Lucis crystal for years, and my father and I have protected it from them at every turn."

"And the only reason Tenebrae hasn't been completely assimilated is because I'm the Oracle," she added.

"Only three people still stood between them and total global domination," I continued. "So they arrange this fake wedding as a means to get us together in the same room. And then we show up, and they take us all out at once." I reached down and started gripping the arms of my chair tightly enough that I wondered if it might crack under the pressure of my anger, my seething hatred for Niflheim and what they had done. "What I wouldn't give to be in the same room with the Emperor right about now…"

"Noctis," she said, looking deep into my eyes, "we can get through this. We can build a resistance movement and strike back when the time is right. I'll meet you tomorrow morning so we can talk things over some more."

She leaned over and placed her hand over mine. Her touch was strangely soothing, her fingers smooth and gentle, and my own fingers began to ease up on the chair.

"Whatever happens," she said, "I'm always on your side. Okay?"

For a moment, I didn't say anything. The hand she'd reached out to touch then released the chair's arm, and I turned it over to clasp hers. "I appreciate that," I said. "But for now, I guess I should let you get some rest."

"What about you?"

"I don't know," I replied. "I won't be sleeping well tonight anyway. Too much stuff to think about, I guess."

"Altissia's a good place to take your mind off things," she said. "But whatever you do, just take it easy for now."

With that, we stood up at the same time, our locked hands lingering for a moment before we let them fall to our sides. "Well… good night, Luna," I said, and I made my way over to her door.

And as soon as my fingertips grazed the doorknob, I heard a flurry of footsteps behind me. I turned around to see what was going on and she immediately wrapped me up in another tight embrace, one I found myself eager to return.

"Good night, Noctis," she whispered. Then she let me go, and I saw myself out.

I paced down the hall back to our room, my brain overloading itself with swirling thoughts about all that had happened that week, and all that would happen in the weeks to follow. I had no idea where I could even begin, or if we had even a snowball's chance in hell against the Empire. I entered our room and saw my friends sitting on the beds, channel surfing and joking around, and I could still sense Luna's soft touch on my fingertips. It made me feel a little better to know that I wouldn't have to go through any of this alone.

"Hey, bro," Prompto said once he saw me come in. "So what did Luna want?"

"Luna just wanted to talk for a bit," I answered, walking over to the window and peering out at all the flashing lights and passing nightlife enthusiasts. "She wants to meet tomorrow morning to start figuring out what we're gonna do next. I have no idea what that could end up being, but it doesn't matter. I'll do whatever needs to be done to stop this invasion. I look forward to showing that bastard Emperor what happens when you cross the king of Lucis."

"So what do we do in the meantime?" asked Gladiolus. "I'd suggest going to bed, but I don't feel the least bit tired at all."

"Yeah, me neither," I said, looking back at the others. "You know, we never really got to experience the city when we were here before. Who the hell knows when we'll be back?"

"You sure you wanna do that?" asked Prompto. "I mean, you heard what Luna said. Maybe we're better off not risking drawing attention to ourselves."

"Did I really just hear that coming from you?" Ignis asked, feigning surprise. "I don't know about you lot, but no man in history has ever needed a stiff drink as badly as I do tonight."

"Present company excluded, of course," I said. "And to be honest, I don't even care if anyone out there recognizes me. I kind of hope somebody does, if only so more people will realize how full of shit the Empire is." I folded my arms and smiled with confidence as I repeated a question that had made the last few days of our lives so hectic. "I'm not gonna force you guys to do anything you don't want to do. So are you in, or are you out?"

I looked over at Gladiolus first – as my bodyguard, it would have been his responsibility to assess our surroundings for any kind of threat. While Altissia was a lively town, it didn't appear to be all that dangerous, especially since nobody here had any reason to be hunting for us. Still, even though I felt like going out and enjoying myself, I didn't want to leave anyone behind. Either we all went out, or nobody did, and from the looks on everyone's faces I got the impression they understood that too.

"Hey, wherever you go, I'll follow," said Gladio. "You know you never need to ask me about that stuff. I'm in."

"Well, I've never been to Altissia in my life," Prompto said. "I've been itching to check this place out from the minute we got here. Let's do this."

Then I looked over at Ignis, who appeared deep in thought about something. I wasn't sure whether or not this meant he was switching into royal advisor mode or if he was mulling over our possible destinations for the night. Then he stood up straight, cleaned off his glasses, and took a look out the window as he put them back on.

"Gentlemen," he said, "tomorrow marks the first day of the rest of our lives. I'm sure you don't need me to explain that, or how important it is that we stay focused on saving Lucis for the remainder of this little odyssey of ours." He turned back to face us, leaning against the window and folding his arms. "That being said… this night is still young. And Altissia awaits."

"You serious about this, bro?" Prompto asked, a big grin starting to form on his face. "Are we really getting the Big Four back together?"

"The Big Four never really split up," said Gladiolus. "Life might have pulled us in different directions sometimes, but that's pretty much it."

"That's how it's always worked, man," I said as I led them to the door. "Crown Club for life."

Minutes later the elevator doors opened on the ground floor, and we strode through the hotel lobby wearing masks of relaxed confidence, eagerly anticipating whatever adventures the night would bring. We stepped out into the cool city air, glancing around at all the people passing by en route from one club to the next and listening in on snippets of conversations about the best drinks and the loudest music. In everyday life we were a prince, a bodyguard, a royal advisor, and a thief, but out there among the nightlife crowds, we could blend in just as well as anyone else who hit the streets in search of a good time or something to take their minds off the bad times.

The Big Four were back in action once more. Of course we all had marriage and careers and legal issues waiting to pounce on us again the next morning, and a kingdom in need of saving to top it all off. But for the time being, all of that could wait. We were too damn young to feel so damn old, and we knew we could use a little leisure time before our lives _really_ started getting difficult in the days to come. So we marched onward down the crowded Altissian street, looking for the right place to start spending whatever time we had left before adulthood inevitably swallowed us whole and spit out our bones.

* * *

 **THE END**

* * *

 _And with a face like a dad and a laughable stand,_

 _You can sleep on the plane or review what you said._

 _When you're drunk and the kids look impossibly tan,_

 _You think over and over, "Hey, I'm finally dead!"_

 _Oh, when the trip and the plan come apart in your hand,_

 _You can turn it on yourself, you ridiculous clown._

 _You forgot what you meant when you read what you said,_

 _And you always knew you were tired, but then_

 _Where are your friends tonight?_

 _If I could see all my friends tonight…_

\- LCD Soundsystem, "All My Friends"

* * *

 **LONGEST AUTHOR'S NOTE OF ALL TIME**

Last time around, I said I wanted to get this story finished before _Final Fantasy XV_ finally came out. Mission accomplished! And it is, by far, the longest thing I've ever written in my life.

The title of this chapter comes from "A More Perfect Union" by Titus Andronicus, while the author's note quote comes from "The Pioneers" by Bloc Party. The song playing on the arm wrestlers' radio is "Welcome To The Fold" by Filter, and the song in the meteor shower scene is "Infinite Arms" by Band of Horses. There's a shout-out to "Nobody Beats The Wiz," an old marketing slogan for a retail company that I remember seeing on the players' chairs at NBA games. The Wiz clerk's poster is a parody of that famous image of the nude women with Pink Floyd album covers painted on their backs; here their backs are painted with PlayStation-era _Final Fantasy_ logos. The various boy band images that Noctis mentions during the "gimmick factory" scene are from actual boy band music videos: "It's Gonna Be Me" by N'Sync, "Drag Me Down" by One Direction, and "Larger Than Life" and "Everybody (Backstreet's Back)" by the Backstreet Boys. The first text message from Nyx is a reference to Jesse Pinkman from _Breaking Bad_ , who was played by the same actor. Noctis tries to calm himself down at one point by repeating the chorus from Radiohead's "How To Disappear Completely." There are also numerous 15's that appear throughout the story, and also 6's (6 being the sum of 1 + 5).

 **Spot the Cameo:** Somehow I managed to go three chapters without including a round of this little game, but it's back with a vengeance now. There are a whopping **21** cameos by other _Final Fantasy_ characters in this chapter, and nearly all of them are in the Wiz Chocobo Post scene. Some of them are mentioned by name – Yuna, Rikku, Lulu, and Paine ( _X_ and _X-2_ ); Terra ( _VI_ ); Cecil ( _IV_ ); and Bartz ( _V_ ) – but the others aren't. The arm wrestlers are Snow ( _XIII_ ) and Zell ( _VIII_ ); the women sparring are Beatrix ( _IX_ ) and Lightning ( _XIII_ ); the group at the picnic table consists of Cloud ( _VII_ ), Tifa ( _VII_ ), Ashe ( _XII_ ), and Balthier ( _XII_ ) while Fran ( _XII_ ) observes their conversation; Zidane ( _IX_ ) is helping Dagger ( _IX_ ) mount a chocobo; Celes ( _VI_ ) gets teased for singing opera; Auron ( _X_ ) is the veteran hunter who confirms that Deadeye's horn is real; and finally Squall ( _VIII_ ) shows up as the in-universe Uber driver.

 **Other** _ **FF**_ **Stuff:** All of Yuna's songs are actual _FF_ songs, aside from "Simple And Clean," which is from _Kingdom Hearts_ ; there's also a nod to Florence and the Machine's cover of "Stand By Me" for _FFXV_. Noctis's pseudonym comes from fake names that other _FF_ royals have used – Lamont is Larsa's alias in _XII_ , and I picked Daguerreo for the surname because it kind of looks like "Dagger" (it also happens to be a town in _IX_ ). Even the name of the waitress from Chapter 1, who reappears here, came from _IX_ ; she's named after the waitress Zidane invites on an airship cruise in the scene where you first meet Freya. And I couldn't resist poking fun at GameSpot for how they reported the leak of _FFXV_ 's release date literally hours before the "Uncovered" event.

I… may have overdone it with the _FF_ geek-outs in this chapter. But I guess that's what happens when you try to pay homage to over 20 years' worth of games and characters all at the same time.

 **Closing Thoughts:** If there's any moral to be taken from this story, it's probably the following words of wisdom from one of the rare _Oglaf_ strips that are actually safe for work…

"The wilderness is full of dangerous shit. Survive it by not being there."

Thanks for reading, and for all of your feedback!


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